


Pride and Prejudice Remux

by darkJotunn (scarecrowslady)



Category: Chuck (TV), Doctor Who, Real Person Fiction, Star Trek RPF, Star Trek: The Original Series, The Avengers (2012), The Hollow Crown (2012)
Genre: AU-Tom, Alternate Universe - Crack, Because I can, Crack, F/M, I Don't Even Know, Loki is a bit of a dick, M/M, Post-Avengers, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, What am I doing?, a wet shirt sequence must be put in here somewhere, almost no knowledge of british-isms, because he's darcy, for some reason need to add colin firth in somewhere, forget the ages of almost everyone, just did, loki is put in an alternate dimension, m/m - Freeform, no seriously... what?, no surprises re plot, odin and thor make their presence felt too, partial AU, pride and prejudice college au, set in cambridge?, so concrit is appreciated, srsly, taken from the book and modernized
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:36:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 61,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarecrowslady/pseuds/darkJotunn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows that a single dude with a ton of moolah and a great job must want to find a wife (or some kind of partner) to share his happiness with. But what if said dude is mildly psychotic with a chip on his shoulder - and what if he bumps into a carefree, wild-spirited fellow student - and what if there is second guessing? And eventual love? Loki Post-Avenger with AU!Tom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Sexy Beast Announced?

**Author's Note:**

> Although this is a mano e mano fic, I don't know if I can write any sex scenes... We'll see. But this is basically taken straight from "Pride and Prejudice". Austen may rise up and slay me where I sleep. Or maybe not. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think! This is my first Tomki! I'm nervous! @.@ [More saner Tomki will be written by moi at a later date... I just want to do something lazy like this first...]
> 
> Also this is for all the Tomki writers out there who got me hooked on the idea. It does work. Really...

Everyone knows that a single dude with a ton of moolah and a great job must want to find a wife (or some kind of partner) to share his happiness with.

Who cares what said dude thinks when he moves into his new digs – this idea of the primo numero importance of some kind of marital (or sexual) bliss is so engrained in the Western culture mindset (thanks to car, tobacco and alcohol adverts), that the anxiously waiting neighbours are more than ready to throw their sons and daughters willy-nilly at said new rich bloke.

“Leonard!” said his overly excitable partner, William, one day, blue eyes shining with excitement. “Did you hear about that mansion down the street?”  
“Hm...” Leonard mumbled absent-mindedly as he turned his newspaper page and rustled it - an attempt to signal to his long-time live-in partner that he wasn't up for conversation. It was ignored.  
“Did you hear that it's been finally sold?”

Leonard said something to the effect that he hadn't heard.

“But it has!” William went on. “Irons told me the other day when he was mowing his lawn."

Leonard didn't reply. The Strand was up to something unusual and that seemed more interesting than the horrid house down the street being let out. Or sold. Or whatever.

“Do you know who has bought it?” William would not be stopped now.  
“You want to tell me,” Leonard sighed. “Go ahead then.”  
“Well, Irons told me that 215 was taken by some young man who comes from old money up north – been living in London though, most of his life – and so, he's quite modern, you know. He came down on Monday, apparently, in some kind of rad Porsche, and he fell in the love with the house apparently –“  
“Can't see why...” mumbled Leonard.  
“- and he's already signed the papers and everything and he's going to move in come beginning of August. He's a studying at Cambridge, I expect? Where was he before I wonder? Anyways, he has house staff and everything – and they're coming in sometime in July.”  
“What's his name?”  
“Well, his last name is Downey. Calls himself Robert Downey Junior. That's what Irons said.”  
“And you said he's single?”  
“Of course – that's what I noticed right away. He's a single rich man – simply rolling in it. A hell of a match for one of our boys!”  
“Really?”  
“Leonard,” sighed William. “Are you trying to piss me off or something? You gotta be thinking about this! I am!”  
“So that's why he moved here, huh.”  
“That's why – what the hell, Leonard, of course not. But it's possible he'll fall in love with one of our boys –“  
“We don't know if he's gay,” Leonard pointed out. “Not everyone is like you, William.”  
“Nonsense, he will fall in love with one of our boys – and so you have to visit him – as soon as he comes.”  
“Why should I?” sighed Leonard. “You and the boys can go. Or better yet, cut the chaperone nonsense and just send the boys. Let nature take its course – which might be better, since you are the sexiest of the bunch and Mr. Downey might end up making some moves on you!”  
“That's nice,” William pouted happily and smiled at his partner. “I know I'm hot stuff – but now's not the time to think of me. There are our boys to consider.”  
“Really...”  
“So, you really must go see this Downey guy and check him out when he shows up.”  
“We'll see.”  
“Think about your sons! The Levis are bent on visiting him right away – and they're the quietest of the bunch, usually – you know, because of their conservative ways and all. So, if they are going, you must go!”  
“This is absurd,” Leonard glared at his partner over his newspaper. “I'm sure Mr. Downey will be happy to be visited by you and the boys – here, how's this - I'll send him a letter or something or shoot off an email. If he's studying at Cambridge, his details must be in the Student Office and I'm sure I can shoot him some kind of a welcome. Though, if I am going to speak for the boys, I'll definitely recommend Tom.”  
“What the hell, Leonard! Tom is no better than the others! He isn't as gentle as Mark, nor as easy-going and humorous as Chris. But then, you always do prefer him to the others...”  
“Well, that's because the rest of our boys are still rather idiotic,” Leonard replied calmly, returning to his paper. “Moronic – just like other high school and university boys. Tom at least has some kind of intelligence underneath his curls. More so than the rest of his brothers.”  
“Leonard! You just love to abuse the kids, dammit! And now you're pissing me off!” William's face was turning an unhealthy shade of red and his blue eyes were stormy. “You just love messing with me!”  
“Don't get me wrong, William, dear,” Leonard sighed. “I'm not messing with you. We've been together for what, twenty years, and I know better than to mess with you before your fifth cup of coffee.”  
“You don't know how I suffer!”  
“You'll get over it – and this is Cambridge – tons of new students come in and out every year!”  
“It doesn't matter if a billion young men come round to Cambridge, if we don't invite them over and throw damn good parties to attract them with!”  
“Trust me. We'll throw a good party – when there are a billion around.”

Leonard, a less well-known professor in the acting department in Cambridge, had a life outside their comfortable home and carried on in a stable fashion. However, William was, after years in the theatre, more than a little bit of a diva and liked to cause a fuss for no reason. Furthermore, retirement suited him ill (whether he wanted to admit it or not) – and Leonard was tempted on more than one occasion to kick his arse back to Hollywood. Or Canada. Somewhere. But Leonard was used to dealing with William's theatrics. Years and years of experience had taught him that William would calm down eventually – and it amused Leonard to get a rise out of his partner. After all, William definitely could go around and invite the Mr. Downey over to their house for dinner – but William always liked to make Leonard agree on the matter before he went out and did so. Leonard knew how this dance would go, and it went down just as he thought.


	2. Leonard Pulls A Fast One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the chapters are short thanks to Pride and Prejudice having such short chapters. LOLZ. Hopefully you enjoy this one - we finally get some characters talking and stuff. Characters who are interesting.
> 
> Why the heck did I choose Nimoy and Shatner to be parents of this brood?
> 
> Because this is a crackfic. Yep.

Leonard Nimoy was one of the first people to drop in to say hi to Mr. Robert Downey Jr when the august student moved in. From the get go, he had planned to pop in, although he kept telling William that he wouldn't, just to get a rise out of his partner. Not until the next day, in the evening, did he say anything about it. The entire family were hanging out in the rec room, playing video games on their PSPs and the like and reading - when Tom came in to show off a new tie he had bought.

“I hope Mr. Downey likes it, Tom,” Leonard said equably. He always encouraged his son's sense of fashion.  
“It doesn't matter,” William pouted, flouncing a little on the couch, where he had been drinking a beer and listening to Matt and Chris talk about skinny jean fashions. “Since we're not talking to him.”  
“It's not like we won't see him,” Tom said, rolling his eyes at his more flamboyant dad's behaviour. “We'll see him at assembly and in class or something, I'm sure. And there are always the clubs and stuff. Mr. Irons said he'd invite Mr. Downey over to his neighbourhood fall barbeque.”  
“I don't think Irons will do anything like that,” William snorted. “He's got a nephew and a niece – and I'm sure he wants them married to a rich guy like Downey too! Selfish, hypocritical man! I have no opinion about him!”  
“Yes, I can see that,” Leonard said mildly from behind yet another newspaper.

William refused to talk to Leonard and started to yell at Chris for changing the channel from a theatre piece to football.

“Chris! What the hell d'you think you're doing? I'm watching Hamlet tonight, dammit. Kenneth Branagh's version is something you should never miss seeing!”  
“Chris doesn't have the sense to enjoy Shakespeare,” Leonard sighed. “Don't torture him.”  
“What?” Chris sighed. “I've seen this one tons of times! And I like the David Tennant version better. It has Patrick Stewart in it.” He turned to Tom. “When are you going out clubbing next?”  
“Not for another few weeks,” Tom shrugged. “I guess. It's still quiet what with all the students gone.”  
“It is!” William agreed with a wail, eyes never moving from Branagh's portrayal. “Even Irons has left town for the Lake District – and he's probably going to be gone until mid-August, so we'll never meet Downey until Irons's barbeque in September.”  
“Well, then, when Downey shows up at the barbeque, you can introduce him to Irons – how's that for a thought?” Leonard smiled at his partner.  
“How are we going to do that – if you refuse to go with me and do a proper introduction? Stop teasing me, dammit!”  
“Well, it's true we can't know a man in only a few weeks – this Downey fellow might be a serial rapist for all we know – but it'll show great kindness to Irons and his extensive family if we introduce Downey to him. If you won't do it, I will.”

The group of boys stared at Leonard, while William started to throw pillows at the man, yelling, “Stop being a moron!”  
“Why are you calling me moron?” asked Leonard. “Is it so difficult to introduce someone? Ben, you're one of those bookworm, nerd types – I'm sure you've read it somewhere.”  
  
Ben just blinked at his Father – and then his Dad – before going back to his own copy of _The Tempest_.

“OK, then,” Leonard shook his head. “We'll let Ben get back to his great thoughts. Let's go back to Mr. Downey.”  
“I'm sick of Mr. Downey,” said William, glaring at the TV (although, how could one glare at Kenneth Branagh for long?).  
“Oh. That's too bad. Why didn't you tell me before?” Leonard sighed. “If I had known that this morning, I wouldn't have popped round. This is unlucky, because now that I've checked him out, we can't pretend to not know him.”

Everyone was stunned – which is exactly what Leonard wanted. Of course, William was beside himself with happiness and began to say that that's what he had thought Leonard would do all along. (Yeah, right.)

“You're such a frustrating man, Leonard,” sighed William, drawing Leonard into a hug on the couch. “I knew you loved us too much to let us be forgotten! And isn't that amazing, boys! Your dad played an awesome joke, didn't he?”  
“Yeahhh...” Tom said. “Awesome.”  
“Now, Chris, I think you can go watch as much football as you want, since I'm sure your dad will not be able to focus on Branagh... hahaha. I'm off to do some work.”

As Leonard left the room, he could hear William still in transports of delight.

“See, isn't your father the shit, boys? I don't know how we can repay him –“  
“Well, I know how you can repay him,” Chris laughed. Mark sighed and Tom elbowed his younger brother, Chris, with great vim.  
“He seems like a terrible guy, but he's a damn fine father, and don't you boys ever forget it! And this is going to be awesome because we'll be able to meet this Downey guy and get to know him better. Well, you're a bit young, Chris, but I'm sure he'll let you into his parties – if he holds them. Chris is tall enough anyways to look older... and I'm sure Downey will more than want to bump and grind with a few of you.”  
“Why does Dad pretend to be cool?” sighed Mark.  
“I don't know,” Tom shook his head. “He really should stop.... eheheheh...”  
“Well, of course I'm going to get in,” Chris grinned. “I might be the youngest, but I am the tallest!”

The rest of the evening was spent guessing how Mr. Downey would return their Father's visit and when they could introduce themselves in a socially acceptable way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lydia, in Pride and Prejudice, was actually the tallest according to the book!
> 
> Let me know what you think! Even if only to say that this is crack! Lolz.


	3. The Affair of Irons's Barbeque

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you can see, this is going to be a longer fic - that's about how many chapters are in P&P - but they're short things. And... so easy to write... I'm like... so far ahead. It's criminal. How is this crap coming out? 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter... LOKI ARRIVES! YES!

Of course, for the next week or so, all that William and the boys could talk about was the mysterious Mr. Downey, who had as yet to show himself on his front lawn or anywhere in the neighbourhood. Instead, they tried to pop questions or lure a description out from Leonard – who remained mum on the topic in a very annoying kind of way. Even Tom couldn't pry any information on Mr. Downey out of his Father – and he was Leonard's known favourite!

In the end, it was Mrs. Levi who told them a bit about the infamous Mr. Robert Downey Junior. She had come over to borrow a cup of sugar. Or so she said. William had a feeling it was to rub it in his face that he hadn't gotten to see the new student yet. Mrs. Levi spilled the beans in a very satisfactory way, however, so William found it easy to forgive her. Apparently not only was Downey of middling height and dark-haired, but he was youthful, incredibly handsome and very outgoing. And he was going to come to Irons's barbeque for certain! This was just too exciting.

"If only he could hook up with one of our boys,” sighed William, twirling around in his pink apron with a spatula in his hand (he was trying to cook omelets again... again...). “And if we got all the boys happily married off, then our life's work is done.”  
“Hm,” Leonard said. He was a more hands off parent than William.

Unfortunately, William was out shopping with Chris and Matt (for their new year at high school) when Downey Junior returned the call. Tom, Mark and Ben had gone out for a 'run' – well, it more ended up with Tom running around the football field with Mark and Ben giving up after twenty minutes. At any rate, the house was strangely quiet when Downey came around. Looking at the very lived-in quality of the homey rec room in the walk-in basement, Downey assumed that it was a large family – but then Leonard was at his elbow and escorting him into his study ( _who has a study nowadays? Really?_ ) - like he was some kind of old-word gentleman or something. Downey wracked his memory for the name Professor Nimoy – but nothing came to mind. He sighed and hoped that the man wouldn't be dull.

He wasn't.

After half an hour, Leonard walked Downey down to the sidewalk, chatting companionably about football and the Cambridge team as well as the new science building and the new science labs erected therein. Apparently, one of Leonard's boys were into science as well. This was just dandy.

Of course, just as Downey was strolling down the street, William drove up in their battered Austin Mini, blue eyes wide. The family packed inside were all agog as they stared out the windows at the famous multimillionaire now frequenting their neighbourhood. Of course, William gave Downey a call right away to extend an invitation for dinner the following night – but that was declined because apparently the Exalted One had business in London.

“London? So early?” William wondered that night at dinner. “Really? This seems odd –“  
“It is a bit sketch,” agreed Matt. “But he's probably got lots of money things to deal with.”  
“Yes, money things,” Leonard echoed sarcastically. “Wonderful way with words there, Matt. I look forward to your English marks.”  
“Shit,” Chris said, putting down his spoon and grimaced. “I forgot about those...”  
“You'll do fine,” Tom said. “I can help you guys.”  
“So can I,” said Ben, eagerly. “And I can make it more exciting this time around.”  
“Well, I just wonder what he's doing in London,” William went on, undeterred.  
“I'm sure Mrs. Levi knows.”

Mrs. Levi did indeed know. Apparently, Professor Firth told her that he heard from his partner, Hugh, who had heard it from Rickman that Downey had said he was going into London to get a few other schoolmates. Apparently, they were all going to be living in the mansion for the school year. Old money did tend to congregate together. Who would they be exactly? Hard to say. He had mentioned a younger brother and an old friend.

It wasn't until a week later, at the Irons's party, that the Nimoy-Shatner family saw the truth of the matter for themselves. It was a group of FIVE guys. William nearly passed out in delight at the obvious sexiness of the entire group. One didn't know where to land one's eyes, for serious!

Of course, all eyes went to the ubiquitous Robert Downey Junior. The multimillionaire student was just as hot, handsome, gorgeous et cetera as the stories said. He seemed to be really nice – having lively brown eyes (revealed once his shades were removed), dark chestnut hair and a stylish hipster looking goatee. He wore a semi-formal cut shirt with a strange design on the front – but fashion jeans (they looked grungy too, but Tom and his brothers could tell the difference) saved the day. That and the fact that he brought along bottles of top-notch wine.

His other friends were just as exciting. One stylish looking fellow, also sporting a goatee and longer dark-brown hair, doffed a derby hat, revealing inquisitive eyes behind gold-tinted sunglasses. He had a suave air about him and introduced himself as “Johnny”. Like Robert, Johnny had a way of talking which could enchant everyone about him. Also, he was a bit strange. Anyone with half a head on could tell they were related, so when Robert introduced him as his younger brother, everyone nodded their head equably.

And then there were the two hangers on who chatted quietly with each other. The taller one, with fine skin, dark chestnut hair (again) and gorgeous eyebrows and lustrous eyes, so called “Orlando”, seemed to be more lively than his older companion. Yet, he seemed a bit shy in the company of strangers who stared back at the entire group and he edged a bit back until he bumped into his quieter, older friend.

Said quieter, older friend was “Martin”. Obviously the serious one of the bunch. Leonard felt relieved right away. Martin would no doubt make sure that anything going on at the mansion would be legal and safe. _Ben and Chris wouldn't come to harm under Martin's watchful grey eyes_ , he was sure. Martin wore a cardigan and a collared shirt – on top of iron grey pants. _All in all_ , Leonard thought, _a great boy._

But it was the final guest that really drew everyone's eye. Tall, distinguished, almost over-dressed and gorgeous to the point of speechlessness, Loki Laufeyson seemed to be almost like a prince from another realm altogether. He was over six-feet tall – closing on Chris's height – just as tall as Tom – and like Tom, he had fine features and a very aristocratic bearing. However, unlike Tom, Loki's eyes were a brilliant green – and his long black hair and quirky, dark eyebrows promised something a bit darker than the usual student attending Cambridge. There was a world weary air about him as he surveyed the group of neighbours.

Within minutes, gossip was circulating around the small groups of men and women clustered about on Irons's spacious backyard lawn.

“Did you hear?” William was saying in a voice, just a little too loud. “I just heard from Rickman that Loki Laufeyson is some sort of billionaire off the Continent!”  
“Hm. He definitely does look foreign,” agreed Mrs Levi. “But he's got a British accent.”  
“Well, that just means he was educated here,” Irons shrugged. “Which is, of course, no surprise considering that most rich men want to send their children to England for education.”  
“Yes, well, he may be educated,” Hugh Grant had wandered over at the mention of 'Loki'. “But that guy is totally a snob. Won't talk to anyone. Trust me. He just took Bilston-Briggs down a few pegs a few minutes ago. Doesn't he know Bilston-Briggs is a professor? I mean, yes, she's a bit nuts, but still! Professor!”  
“Maybe he transferred?” suggested Mrs. Levi.  
“He might be new about this whole thing,” added Irons. “Foreign people don't always quite 'get it', you know.”  
“Well, if he's too snobby to chat with people, then whatever,” sniffed William, feeling a pout coming on. A billionaire for one of his sons would've been nice.

As the barbeque went on, more and more of the university neighbourhood came to the belief that Downey and his friends were quite an addition to their group - especially after he loudly insisted everyone call him Robert or Rob. Robert seemed to be more or less mature for his age – and didn't drink at all! He also kept a strict eye on Johnny's antics and nipped a few of the crazier things (like trying to pull William in for a dance on the patio) to a minimum. Johnny, Orlando and Martin, once they relaxed, revealed themselves to be earnest, if a bit eccentric, people. Particularly Johnny who never left Loki's side for long.

On the other hand, Loki was insufferable. He refused to talk to people and constantly was at Robert's side looking down at everyone – which killed quite a few conversations, I can tell you. On top of that, he only talked to Johnny and Martin – appearing to dislike Orlando just as much as the others (which piqued Tom's interest). Everyone thought Loki was an idiotic prig and tried to ignore him right away.

It got worse when William found out that said billionaire had snubbed Tom during the usual yearly patio dance. Apparently, there were a shortage of girls (only five had showed up) – and the boys had taken to dancing with each other (which William always loved to see). Johnny and Orlando were more than up for that kind of fun. Tom had just pulled away from two of the girls and was standing by the punch, when he saw Robert extract himself from the busy patio and move over to Loki's side.

“C'mon, Loki,” he rolled his eyes. “You must dance. I can't stand the sight of you just standing there like a sore thumb. A bored, boring, sore thumb. C'mon. You just look damn stupid now. Come and dance!”  
“I am not dancing,” sniffed Loki. “You know I don't like dancing with people I do not know. And everyone I know is already dancing with someone else. As for dancing with these... bumpkins...” He paused for effect. “Are there sheep?”  
“Aw, hell,” Robert sighed. “Loki, you are too picky! Open those peepers and take a look – the girls are pretty cool – and the guys... they guys are HOT! I swear – that one family is just like... hottie hot hottie central!”  
“Well, that is true,” Loki agreed, pointing at Mark who was now talking to his father, Leonard, quietly. “You are dancing with the only boy with class.”  
“Yes, he is pretty classy,” Robert nodded. “I can sure pick'em, can't I? And smart too! We'll probably have a few classes together as well.”  
“Lucky you,” Loki said sourly.  
“But c'mon. Did you see his younger brother – Tom, I mean. He's well – he's as tall as you are – and really lively! Look,” Robert nudged his friend. “He's over there by the punch bowl table. Just ask him.”

Tom studied the punch, glaring at the pink liquid, trying to avoid the quick flickering look Loki swept over him. He peeked up – and discovered he hadn't waited long enough. Bright, sky-blue eyes met poisonous green.

“Hmph. I guess he's kinda cute – but not hot enough to tempt me to dance with him,” Loki said dismissively. “Really, you should just go back and pretend to dance with that Mark guy – don't waste time on me here.”

With a sigh, Robert returned to the dance floor, shaking his head. Loki stalked off to a more empty corner of the lawn, further away from the patio, while Tom tried to assimilate exactly what he had heard. His first reaction was indignation – but as William had noted before, Tom was, above all else, polite. When he retold the story to his friend, Zachary Levi, a few minutes later, he told it as a joke and together he and his friends and his brothers had a laugh.

Tom didn't need Loki Laufeyson's approval to have fun – and he did not need Loki to think he was hot to know that he was just fine as he was.

The barbeque ended well, despite Loki's behaviour, and when William, Leonard and the rest of their family walked home, stuffed from amazingly roasted steaks and tired from dancing, everyone thought the night had been a success. Mark was the toast of the evening – because it was obvious to everyone that Downey was very much interested in getting to know him better. Mark was quiet the entire time, even when he got home.

 _But then_ , Tom thought, _Mark is always quiet. He isn't as out there as Chris or Matt. Or even Ben._

So, Mark was happy because Robert, who was a cool, intelligent guy, seemed to be interested in him. Tom was happy because Mark was happy. Benedict was happy because he had heard from Zach that Rickman had told Johnny and Martin that he, Benedict, was a real genius for his age. Matt and Chris were just happy because hot girls had showed up and Robert's friends were handsome too.

It was like Christmas. Early Christmas.

Of course, William was in seventh heaven or thereabouts and incessantly rehashed the entire night with Leonard before they settled in bed together.

“You saw how it was, Leonard. What did I tell you? Robert was into Mark. I told you – Mark is quite handsome. Very classical – and premature grey is the new thing, let me tell you! Robert talked with him a ton – and danced with him twice! He didn't dance with anyone else twice! And you saw where those hands were roaming! He's bi – and you just won't admit it!”  
“I didn't say he wasn't gay,” Leonard explained. “We just didn't know at the time if he was!”  
“Well, he is. Obviously.”  
“And of course, he asked Irons's niece first. And then Zach. Well, Zach has his own Jewish homeboy style, I guess.”  
“I cannot believe you just said that,” Leonard sighed. “You do realize that I have a similar background, right?”  
“Sorry, Leo. Sorry. You're just so... normal...” William sighed. Then brightened at the memory of Mark. “But of course, after Levi, who did he dance with – but Mark. Then he danced with one of those girls from the flats – and then with Zachary's younger brother, Joshua. And then back with Mark again. And then with Tom... and...”  
“William!” Leonard finally said with a sharp voice. “What the hell – I was at the damned thing. I saw it with my own two eyes! You don't have to give me the play by play, dammit. Too bad he didn't fall down and break his damned ankle and save me the trouble of hearing a bloody replay when I got home!”  
“He's just so amazing! Handsome! Rich! And his friends are cute too! So well-dressed and nice! And –“

At this point in time, Leonard pulled William in for a rough kiss, cutting his partner off and distracting him enough so that William forgot about the evening for a good half hour. However, when the lights were off and they were lying back in their beds, still a little breathless from the workout, William had to add a few words on Loki Laufeyson's behaviour.

“The little tit – totally snubbed Tom, you know. I'm kind of glad that Tom isn't attractive to the horrid snob. So proud and conceited and all royal 'we', you know. He walked here, he walked there – just kind of floating about as if he didn't belong on this Earth at all! Ridiculous. And of course, not as handsome as Robert, you know. Too thin. Nothing... there to hold on to, you know what I mean. It'd be like fucking a skeleton or something. I'm surprised you didn't go over and sock him.” Here, Leonard was heard to mumble something about something queer in the bloke's eyes and having a proper sense of self-preservation. William's usual monologue marched onward. “You're always going on about how Tom should stand up for himself. You need to stand up for our boys too! Especially stand up to fools like Laufeyson! I hope he gets run over by his own Ferrari.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think? 
> 
> OK, some of you might wonder about Loki's situation. If it appears confusing or mysterious, don't panic - there's a reason! All will be explained in due time. Over time!
> 
> Let me know what you think!  
> Concrit welcome!


	4. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's another update. This is going to be a daily thing. Maybe even twice a day if I keep writing it at the speed that I'm writing it at. This is ridic. For reals.
> 
> Why am I writing this trash? Why am I laughing as I write this crap?
> 
> Tell me I'm not crazy. I think I may have gone around the bender.
> 
> Anyways, this chapter has more Loki! Yay!

Chapter 4  
The Aftermath

Once they were alone in the rec room, the rest of the family having gone into their bedrooms for the evening, Tom and Mark sat down for a bit of Halo. As they shot down aliens and generally made a hash of things (neither Tom nor Mark were avid Halo players like their younger siblings), the two of them talked about the evening in their usual quiet way. Well, Mark was quiet, as usual.

“Downey is just what a guy should be,” he said. “The perfect guy, you know – smart, good-humoured, lively... and he's obviously very independent. Orphaned young and all that – and full of commonsense. A man of the world, if you know what I mean.”  
“Sure,” Tom shrugged. He wasn't particularly attracted to Downey, but he had to tease his older brother just a little. “It helps that he's also sex on two legs and obviously bi.”  
“That too.”  
“He danced with you twice.”  
“Yeah. I didn't expect that. Most people go for Chris or Matt.”  
“Really? I'm not surprised about him wanting to hang with you. Chris and Matt are still in diapers. It's what you said, Downey is a man of the world. He wants someone more mature and stuff. Of course he's going to go for you.”  
“Tom!”  
“It's true. Of course, you have a problem of thinking too well of people.”  
“So do you!”  
“Uh... Well, I'm an optimist sure, but I'm not as naive as you are. Admit it, Mark.”  
“OK, fine, but I just don't want to put someone down or say something mean about someone that isn't true.”  
“Hm. Even if it was true, you'd be hard put to say shit about someone or something,” Tom pointed out. “It's why we love you. And of course, it's your gift – to see the good and bad in people and just focus on the good. So what did you think about his friends? Not as cool, huh?”  
“Not really. I guess they are a bit young for me.”  
“That's a nice way of putting it.”  
“Although Martin is quite nice,” Mark went on, shooting Tom a smile as he accidentally killed his brother's avatar for the tenth time that evening.

Tom had a feeling that Mark's mind was farther away from Halo than the Earth was from the Sun. _That's to be expected_ , he thought. _He was, after all, the hit of the barbeque this year – and got Downey's attention. He's not going to notice stuff like Orlando or Johnny or anyone else._

-0-0-0-

Meanwhile, at the new Downey mansion, said young men were gathered around at a round, lovely, oak dining table, playing some poker. To make things easier on Orly's and Martin's pockets, they were using pennies – and generally having a good time of it. Looking around at his housemates, Downey wondered if his year could get any better. Then he remembered the shy, yet intelligent Mark with the surprising sense of humour. 

Perhaps it would. 

Downey had considered selling the house at the end of his school years at Cambridge, but now, considering Mark, he imagined settling down with the grey-haired young man and making a life together. They could adopt. Downey shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He was already thinking kids? _This is crazy. Johnny would be laughing his socks off at me if he knew. He probably already knows_ , sighed Downey. _Orlando and Martin won't want to stay on after they get their degrees. So that's OK._

He paused to consider his close friend and confidante, Loki, and sighed. _Of course, Loki won't stay around either once his education is done. He's got... other things, I guess. Other-worldly things or whatever he blabs on about. He won't want to stay._

Downey knew that many people couldn't understand why a cool cat like him would hang with a tight-ass like Loki. It seemed obvious to him. Loki was at times a tight-ass, but he was also kickass, badass – most kinds of ass – and Downey had been around the block and then some, but even Loki was something beyond his experience. _Well_ , he thought, _it's not everyday that a space wizard god person gatecrashes your party – and Loki is hot stuff. If people knew how smart he was – well, he'd be... locked in a lab somewhere being experimented on – or forced into slave labour for the UN. No, wait. That doesn't work. Oxymoron or whatever._

“So what did you guys think?” Downey finally broke into Orlando and Johnny's chatter about what classes they were going to pick this year as First Years.  
“About what?” asked Loki.  
“The barbeque.”  
“Oh that,” Loki sighed. “We have to relive those horrid moments all over again?”  
“Sadly, yes,” Johnny smirked. “After all, there's the whole matter of Downey's infatuation with that Mark dude.”  
“It's not an infatuation.”  
“Love?” Martin raised an eyebrow. “Already?”  
“How do you know?” Orlando blinked.  
“Oh, you know,” Johnny waggled an eye at Loki, who ignored him. Orlando sighed.  
“What a moronic concept,” Loki sniffed. “Love at first sight, indeed.”  
“What did you think of our new neighbours then?”  
“A putrid collection of humanity, as usual,” Loki replied calmly. “They smelled of dogs and wet soil and damp wool and a few of them of pickles and bad wine and –“  
“Oh, how you do go on,” Orlando sighed.  
“Well, someone has to point it out. Did you see those girls? Their faces looked like wooden dolls –“  
“It's makeup, dude. And it wasn't so bad,” Johnny laughed.  
“It was horrid, is what it was.” Loki continued without skipping a beat. “And everyone was wearing tweed or something knitted –“  
“Not the Nimoy-Shatner boys,” disagreed Downey.  
“What kind of a last name is Nimoy-Shatner anyways?” asked Loki.  
“A strange one?” asked Orlando. “Really, they weren't that bad.”  
“If you go for jocks or hipsters,” sniffed Loki.  
“Mark was dressed nicely!” protested Downey.  
“Well, OK, he was,” agreed Loki.  
“And Tom wasn't so bad, either,” Downey said. “That grey shirt kinda clung to all the right places. And you know it. Too bad he's too tall for me.”  
“And too smart,” Martin laughed. “He's actually quite intelligent, more intelligent than Mark, I heard tell.”  
“Really,” Loki murmured. “That's a surprise. With two fathers like theirs it's a surprise they were educated at all.”  
“Oi,” Johnny raised an eyebrow. “I was raised by Rob –“  
“Yes, I can see that,” was the acid reply.  
“Anyways,” Martin cut through what could become a rather bad argument if they let it go on too long. “Mark is a nice guy. We should invite him for poker night or something.”  
“He might be into video games or clubbing too,” Downey said.  
“Make it a weekend thing,” suggested Johnny. “Get to know him more. But don't invite the rest of his family. They creep me out.”  
“And that's a ringing endorsement right there,” Downey replied mildly. “You'll see. The rest of those boys aren't so bad. Just give them time. They'll grow on you.”  
“Mold grows on you,” Loki sniffed. “That doesn't make it less disgusting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehehehehe. Loki is a bit of dick. Well, he has to be - he's Darcy!


	5. The Barbeque Is Further Dissected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update. More talking. Yep. More Loki-slamming. LOL.

Chapter 5  
The Barbeque Is Further Dissected

Not far down the road, the Levis lived in a nice split-level housing arrangement complete with a comfortable-looking rookery and several nice trees. Every now and then, Mrs. Levi unbent herself enough to welcome the Nimoy-Shatners over for dinner. Probably because Mr. Levi was a good friend of Nimoy – his company did some database work for the school. Mr. Levi, the owner of the company, PigeonHole Incorporated, was always working hard so that his sons, Zachary and Joshua, would be able to get a decent education. He was famous also for his charity work regarding the homeland, Israel, and could get into long discussion over the various styles of Jewish synagogue worship. Mrs. Levi was actually more of a Presbyterian – as was her son, Zachary. 

So, every now and then, she would extend a dinner invitation as an act of charity for “the queer folk down the road”. Leonard didn't care what she thought really – he and Mr. Levi had an understanding, but he knew that William chafed under her patronizing ways, every now and then. Still, William never said no. It was nice to not have to nag one of his boys into doing the dishes. And, watching Zachary and Joshua talk with his sons, William always enjoyed comparing the young men, feeling very proud and happy to have such gorgeous boys who could catch the eyes of multimillionaires. 

It was no surprise, therefore, that the day after the day after the barbeque, the two families met for dinner, aka dissecting the barbeque some more. 

“Zachary danced rather well, I noticed,” William said generously. “Is he taking classes now?”  
“Well, not per se,” Zachary replied before his mother could get a word in edgewise. The brown-eyed boy smiled at his two friends. “Mark and Tom are giving me some tips...”  
“Of course,” William's chest puffed out with pride and he gave Mrs. Levi a catty look over her hand-tossed salad.  
“Zachary did dance well,” Mrs. Levi replied archly, shooting her husband a disapproving glare. She knew that Mr. Levi could break out into some kind of a homophobic rant if she let him. “But I could see that Mr. Downey was more interested in Mark.”

Mark blushed as the rest of the young men chuckled. 

“Oh, Mark? Well, yes, I suppose so,” William said, unashamedly flaunting the awesomeness of his son. “He did dance with Mark twice. It did look like he was checking out Mark too – I'm quite sure, I saw him checking Mark out – I heard something about it – how he gave Mark the once over. Several times. Someone told me Professor Grant said something. I'm not sure what...”  
“Way to sexually objectify your own kid,” Benedict rolled his eyes. “LOL.”  
“Oh, you must mean the conversation between Professor Grant and Downey – Irons overheard that,” Mrs. Levi said helpfully. “Downey was saying that there were quite a nice number of young people in the neighbourhood – and that quite a few were handsome. And the Professor agreed and said that the girls were particularly fine. You know, how the Professor is – flat out philandering bi without shame, poor Colin! And then, he asked Downey which one he liked most! Downey apparently said that he thought that without a doubt Mark was the best one of the bunch!”  
“Holy shit! That's for real?” William was nearly beside himself. Mark wanted to hide underneath the table. “Well, there you go then. Mark, did you hear that?”  
“Yeah...”  
“Well, even more interesting than the obvious attraction between Downey and Mark is the fact that Mr. Laufeyson dissed Tom, right?” Zachary pointed out, trying to save Mark from further embarrassment.  
“Let's not talk about that,” sniffed William. “No need to upset Tom with more talk of that idiot's nonsense. He's already skinny enough as is without me having to worry about bulimia or anorexia or something like that –“  
“Dad!” Tom sighed, exasperated, but William couldn't be stopped.  
“Irons told me Mr. Laufeyson stood by him for a full half an hour and said not one damn word. Asshole.”  
“William,” Nimoy sighed. “Mind your language at the table.”  
“He can't have been that bad, can he?” asked Mark in all seriousness.  
“Yes, yes, he was,” William nodded vehemently. “Irons told me that he refused to talk to him – and he's the fucking host. Sorry. Bad French there!”  
“No French at all really,” chuckled Benedict to Matt.  
“I heard from Johnny that he doesn't talk much to anyone, anywhere – but if you're a close friend, he's a great guy,” Mark said.  
“Hmph. Seeing is believing. He's probably just thinking that Irons is too lowly to talk to.”  
“Who cares if he talked with Irons or not,” Zach shrugged. “I'm more miffed about the fact that he refused to dance with Tom.”  
“Another time, Tom,” William sighed. “I wouldn't dance with that prig, if I was you.”  
“I should think not,” Tom replied with a grin. “Trust me. I'm not going to be dancing with him anytime soon. Besides, he might fancy girls.”  
“On the other hand,” Zach had to point out, “he is super rich – like a gazillion times richer than Downey – and he's supposed to be smarter and foreign and from some kind of royal blood – if you believe Orlando, so... I guess he has a right to think a lot about himself? Wouldn't you?”  
“I suppose,” Tom said. “But he did kinda diss me, so it's hard to be objective, right?”  
“We all struggle with pride at some point,” Ben interjected. “Everyone does. If you go by Christian or, um, Jewish theology, Lucifer fell because of pride. And I think it's a pretty common failing the world over. And there's a difference between pride and vanity too –”  
“Blah blah blah,” Chris shrugged. “If I was rich, I wouldn't worry about shit like that. It's much cooler to have lots of tech and friends to play games with. Think of how slammed you could get – every weekend.”  
“That's not a good thing, entirely,” William frowned. “I'd still be alive, so I'd be grounding you until you turned grey.”

And with that, the conversation spiralled out of control delving into topics such as child discipline and spoiled children and raising dogs and other such mundane matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think~


	6. The Surprising Conclusion of Another Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the epic party in which Elizabeth declines Darcy. I hope do it in an OK way for Tom!

Chapter 6  
The Surprising Conclusion of Another Party

A week went by – a slow week for the Nimoy-Shatners as they finally began to prepare for school in earnest. Leonard was largely absent thanks to some sort of copying error for one of his course-ware packets and there was ruckus about some rat in one of the studies. William, of course, had an opinion about this – and went on about it at length – how the Cambridge printers should be shot and how morons should never stash food in their drawers, et cetera ad nauseum. 

Tom and Mark, both students at Cambridge (enabled by a lower fee thanks to Leonard's job there), were more concerned about the classes they had chosen, the professors who would be working closely with them, the other students who may or may not be a help or a hindrance – and of course, the importance of clothing and school funds. The younger boys, all at various stages in upper school, were not thinking so much about anything other than sports, fashion, girls and weekend plans.

Of course, Downey and company were not entirely forgotten. It was quite nice to see the young men down the street every now and then. In fact, Downey made it a habit to pass by just when Mark went out to check the mail – or when Mark went to the small grocer's shop at the corner every other day, when William suddenly needed more beer. Tom, noticing how cheerful Mark was about the school year (particularly when it was revealed that he and Downey would be sharing two classes, one in chemistry and the other in engineering), felt like this year would be particularly special. Watching (in a non-creepy fashion) from the window of the bedroom which he and Mark shared, Tom couldn't help but notice how much more animated Downey was around Mark and how Mark's small smiles would grow just a bit bigger.

Tom was sitting in their backyard, knocking back a cooler with Zach, when he mentioned this. 

Zach hummed and then, after a moments thought, said, “Well, that's all very nice, Tom – but Mark should be a bit more outgoing. You know... RAWR!” Zach mimed a tiger. “If he's too quiet, Downey is never going to be a hundred percent certain about Mark. It's lovely to play cool and all that –“  
“Mark isn't playing cool!” protested Tom.  
“Yes, I know that – and you know that – and how do we know that? We know Mark. Grew up with him all his life... but Downey hasn't. How's he supposed to know that Mark isn't playing it cool?”  
“Hmmm...” Tom wasn't quite convinced.  
“The man's a multimillionaire – I'm sure he's pretty discerning – but when it comes to matters of love, well,” Zach shrugged. “People get a screw loose. Mark should just lay him. Or something. Nothing wrong with going over the top.”  
“Mark wouldn't know how to lay him,” Tom laughed then, lightly. He shook his head. “I think he's got a virgin ass. Still, even for him, it's plain to see that he's into Downey.”  
“Yeah, well, he's gotta put himself out more. Show off a bit – something. Men like Downey can choose anyone they want. Mark should get him while he can.”  
“True,” Tom agreed. “That's sort of true. I mean, if I was being targeted by Downey, I'd definitely be making sure his mind was made up. But that isn't Mark's way. Mark didn't mean to catch Downey's eye – or even fall in love – or whatever he's feeling at the moment. They've been hanging out on the odd occasion around the neighbourhood and talked a bunch and stuff – and I should think that's enough for Downey to get some idea about Mark.”  
“Hm,” Zach winked at Tom. “Depends on how you spend your time, doesn't it? Talking only gets you so far, though.”  
“Well, they've discovered a lot,” Tom smiled. “Compared taste in alcohol – although Downey is a pretty strict guy about drinking – I sense some kind of a bad background there... and they talked economy and stuff... Also about school.”  
“Well, I hope it works out, dude,” Zach said. “Mark deserves a cool guy like Downey. He should start shacking up with him tomorrow. I would. You can get to know him as you live the rest of your life with him. Trust me, put off knowing the crap until later.”  
“That, Zach, is alarmingly suspect, and you know it,” Tom laughed. “That's hilarious.... eheheheh. No wonder – never mind.” 

Tom's laugh however faded as he began to remember his own brushes with monied fame in the person of Loki Laufeyson. Now if there was a cipher, it was that guy. For some reason, those green eyes seemed to following him everywhere, as though peeling away his skin and attempting to look inside. _And I can't tell anyone because they'd laugh – and Matt or Ben would think I've got some kind of big head and Dad would want to call to the police or something. Damned unnerving._ Tom sighed. _Of course life is complicated, he thought. Whenever is it not?_

-0-0-0-

Loki did have a problem. It was not the fact that he was stuck on an alternate universe of Midgard as further punishment for his misdeeds with the Chitauri – nor was it the fact that he was fearful of Thanos figuring out where he was and ripping through time and space to get to him – nor was it the fact that every now and then he woke up, drenched in a sweat, panting, gasping, crying as he forced his way past yet another nightmare that swamped him. All of those problems, he could deal with. And he did.

The lesson of humility, he accepted with ease – it wasn't a difficult thing considering that he was now, more or less, in his right mind having been freed from Thanos's mind control. That and a few hundred years in Asgardian jail and house arrest (or rather, palace arrest) had reminded him who and what he was. Thanks to Frigga and Thor, Loki could begin to see some kind of hope for the stolen relic of a Jotun prince.

The issue of Thanos – he was also ready for. What limited magic he was allowed would be enough to send himself to Odin's side at the glimmer of any speck of Thanos. That and under extreme circumstances, the bonds surrounding his magic could disappear and allow himself to exterminate the crazed Titan himself. Loki hoped. There was a lot of payback he wanted to, well, pay back. 

And as for the nightmares. Those would fade with time, he knew. Frigga had given him some elixir for those occasions where it seemed nightmares would visit him too many nights in a row. Thanks to silencing charms, no one in the Downey household would know what ailed him. 

So, in all, Loki felt fairly much in control of his life. Fairly in control. There was just one problem.

One itty-bitty problem. One tall, slender, curly-haired problem. One slightly tan, blue-eyed and sexy problem. One mortal, obnoxious, annoying problem.

Thomas.

No sooner had those words left his mouth at the barbeque then Loki regretted it almost immediately. For one thing, Downey was right – Thomas was sex on legs. Long legs. Legs that went on and on forever. And he would know how sexy those legs looked – because he had similar ones. 

And speaking of similar. No sooner did he go home and look in the mirror than Loki realized why Thomas's face had tugged on his gut in such a way. Thomas was more or less a spitting image of himself. A twin. _No._ Loki reminded himself, _this is another dimension altogether. This is, no doubt, your mirror soul. Soul calling to soul. What kind of magicks may be involved here?_

He glared at himself in the mirror – but didn't see himself. No.

There was instead a head full of loose curls, undoubtedly tamed by some kind of hair product – the colour a reddish-light brown. And a broad, slightly tan brow, light eyebrows and underneath...

Loki leaned forward and banged his head on his mirror. Repeatedly.

Those eyes. Those blue, sky-blue, cerulean blue, robin's egg blue, pure blue, crystal blue – those blue eyes. Blonde eyelashes, a slender nose and underneath, thin lips that quirked up easily in response to jokes and salutations. 

The Prince of Asgard had no sooner told himself that Thomas wasn't at all hot, and suddenly, he was ignited by those eyes. He told himself that Thomas was too skinny – but then discovered himself incapable of tearing his eyes away from Thomas's lightly muscled forearms (which he had happened to notice when they had found themselves tragically stuck in the same grocery line up three days ago). No sooner had he told himself that Thomas had no class – and then Thomas had complimented Mrs. Rosings' new roses with some kind of idyllic pastoral piece from Donne or Shakespeare or some such mortal poetry which even Loki believed to be praiseworthy. Thomas had a way of speaking which Loki knew must be yet another flickering connection between who they were. Suddenly Loki wanted to know if Thomas had a blog or a diary or something. He could gamble that Thomas's way of words affected his writing as well. Easy, unaffected, old-world charm. 

This pissed off Loki even more. _WHY CAN I NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT THE NORN-FORSAKEN MORTAL!_ He growled to himself in full-caps mentally, pounding his pillow as he contemplated the fact that the entire group had been invited by the Nimoy-Shatners to a small after-dinner party the following evening. _I will want to speak with him and he will not wish to talk with me!_

That particular party was rather taxing for Loki, as a result, for like a planet orbiting the Sun, Loki found himself swimming in the general sphere of Thomas the entire evening – until at one point Thomas had somehow magically disappeared and reappeared at Zachary's side at the other end of the room and was speaking low and quickly with Zachary.  
  


-0-0-0-  


“Zach, Zach,” Tom hissed at his best friend. “Tell me I'm nuts.”  
“You're nuts,” Zach replied readily. “About what?”  
“I think Loki is stalking me.”  
“You're nuts,” Zach replied again, brown eyes wide. “What makes you say that? Has your self-confidence finally morphed into an actual ego?”  
“Shush,” Tom rolled his eyes. “I swear – he's listening in on all of my conversations!”  
“Has he groped you yet?”  
“No! But why is he doing that?”  
“I don't know,” Zach sighed. “Why don't you ask him?”  
“I will,” Tom nodded firmly. “He's trying to look down on me – which you know is almost impossible since we're the same height – but it's still off-putting you know. And that's well... off-putting. I'm going to be an actor when I leave school – and there's no way some dude is going to intimidate me.”  
“Go ride'em cowboy,” Zach said.  
“This is serious!” groaned Tom.  
“Yeh-huh.”  
“No. Wait. Look. He's on the other side of the room. Let's you and me stand here talking and – heyyyyyy.... Ben. How's it going, Ben? OK. You, Ben and I are going to stay here and chat and watch and see –“  
“OMG, you're right,” breathed Zach. “He's coming down at your eight o'clock. Trippy. Am I tripping? Ben, did you experiment with your dad's punch again?”  
“Hm? No... But I think Chris did?” The young man grinned. 

Tom sighed and eyed his younger brother. 

“And I suppose Chris will be the one responsible for peeling everyone off the floor tonight and I'll be the one responsible for peeling Chris off the wall when Dad finds out?”  
“More or less,” Ben replied, unrepentantly.  
“He's heeeerrreee...” Zach intoned, and Ben disappeared, apparently to locate Chris and warn him that Tom was on the warpath. 

This left Tom with only one option – and it was something he'd been wanting to do for the past fifteen minutes – he turned and met Loki's gaze evenly. Ice blue clashed with green fire.

“So, Loki, you think I was a bit harsh about condemning Chris's prank of spiking the drinks?” Tom began.  
“Hm. Well, it does show a certain sense of responsibility, doesn't it?” Loki replied with a shrug. “Although, some may see it as humorous. Young boys are always more prone to mischief, aren't they?”  
“Hm. You think getting Bilston-Briggs drunk is a good idea?” Tom ignored Zach's repeated nudging.  
“Well, if it loosens us all up, it won't be a problem, right?” Zach laughed. “C'mon Tom – they're putting on your favourite song. _It's Friday, I'm In Love_.... you said you'd do karaoke with me tonight. And Matt pulled it out.”  
“He did not,” Tom sighed. “Why does he do shit like that? Why are people always asking me to sing? I'm not that great of a singer! You people should be asking others to sing –“  
“Tom. You promised!”  
“Fine, fine,” Tom flashed a grin at Loki. “Well, I've got to save my voice for singing, so long, Loki!”  
  


-0-0-0-  


With that, Thomas was pulled off toward the karaoke machine, where Jonathon and Orlando were finishing a song from Disney on a rather horrific crescendo. Thomas ended up singing his song alone – and although Loki knew that Thomas's voice would probably be better suited to other styles of singing, there was something about the carefree sway of the young man's hips, the sparkle in those blue eyes and the upward curve of those pale lips that called to Loki regardless. When Thomas said no firmly to another song and gave the mike over to a really eager the third son who wanted to sing some 1920s tune, Loki felt a little disappointed. 

Benedict wasn't the best of singers, not any better than Matthew at least – but he had vigour and loved to sing having studied many songs on the battered karaoke machine (dragged over the Atlantic Ocean by William). Following that song, Benedict and Matthew sang a slow ballad, “Fields of Gold” by Sting, by the end of which Downey and Mark had begun to slow dance at the back of the room. No other encouragement was needed. Chairs were pulled back and the boys (with the help of Jonathon and Orlando at odd times) began to sing a variety of ballads, while the others slowly swayed around the room. 

Loki found himself relegated to the edge of the room, uncomfortably close to Mr. Levi who had been abandoned by Leonard for a much needed bathroom break. (That and to warn William about the punch.) 

“Isn't this a great party, Mr. Laufeyson?” Mr. Levi said raising a glass of the suspect punch. “The Nimoy-Shatners are an odd bunch – but they sure know how to throw a party. And of course, watching the young ones dance is always fun.”  
“Yes, I suppose,” Loki said. “If you like dancing to badly sung karaoke music – but then, there are savages on this world who dance to drums made out of snake skin and bone... so that is no surprise to me, I guess.”  
Mr. Levi nodded, obviously riding some kind of light buzz – he was already downing this fourth drink of the evening and feeling increasingly more ebullient by the minute. “I must say that Downey is sure quick on his feet – I bet you're a pro on the dance floor as well, Mr. Laufeyson?”  
“Perhaps.”  
“We haven't seen you yet – but Zach told me you danced with Johnny the other day and Nancy. I heard it was quite a sight.”  
“Hm.”  
“Do you dance at clubs?”  
“Not if I can help it.”  
“You don't think they are fun to dance at?”  
“I try to keep dancing to a minimum, really,” Loki sighed.  
“So, you come from around here? Your home town is in England?”

Loki nodded.

“Capital,” Mr. Levi beamed up at Loki. “I have always wanted to live in London, you know – but it's so expensive and a little dangerous at times – and to float in the right circles – well... And the pollution...”  
  
Mr. Levi paused – but any hope of Loki answering was dashed since Loki was not in the mood to chatter about London or any Norn-forsaken mortal city. On top of that, his current bane, a certain mortal named Thomas, was moving toward him – and before he could say anything, Mr. Levi was babbling again.

“Tom, Tom, you aren't dancing? Loki, you really should dance with Tom. This whole queer thing is, really, you know... damned queer – but you've gotta admit that Tom is a fine, fine, fine specimen. You can't really say no to those long legs, can you?” With that, Mr. Levi grabbed Thomas's hand and put it into Loki's hand. 

Loki glared at his fingers now lightly clasping hands so similar to his own. 

“I have no wish to dance,” Thomas said lightly, trying to reclaim his hand. To no avail. “Really. I wasn't coming over here to get a dance partner. More like trying to assassinate the musicians or something...”

Nope. Loki wasn't letting go. 

“No,” Loki forced a vague smile onto his face. “Let us dance.”  
“Yes! Dance!” Mr. Levi waved his arm expansively.  
“Uhhh... Dad?” Zachary swam into view. “I'll, uh, get him somewhere...”  
“Father's study,” Thomas replied absently, his blue eyes never leaving Loki's green ones. “And I'm not dancing.”  
“How can you say no to that?” Mr. Levi was wailing.  
“Easily,” Loki's and Thomas's voices clashed and with that, their hands unstuck and they both felt like they could breath a bit easier. 

Thomas shot Loki a small, amused smile before disappearing after Zachary to find his father. Behind him, Loki sighed, leaned against the wall and could not find it in his heart to be angry at the mortal who had declined his offer at a dance. Jonathan swanned up, smile as wide as shark.

“I know what you're thinking about,” he said.  
“Hardly,” Loki sniffed.  
“You're thinking that this evening feels like it's going on forever and ever and that these people are an absolute waste of time. And it's true.”  
“Well, no, it isn't,” Loki replied coolly. “I wasn't thinking of that at all. No... I was thinking more about what great pleasure the fine eyes of a handsome specimen of humanity can give you.”  
“Really?” Jonathan blinked. “Who?”  
“Thomas.”  
“Tom? Seriously? When's the wedding date?”  
“How predictable, Jonathan,” Loki grinned down at the shorter, younger man, knowing how much the young man hated being labelled 'normal' or 'unoriginal'. “You go from sexual appreciation to love, from love to marriage in one second. I knew you would say something moronic like that,” he shook his head. “Humans are so passe.”  
“Yes, well, I can see it now. Odin dining with William Shatner. How charming,” Jonathan laughed and after contemplating what married life with Thomas's in-laws involved would be like, he left, leaving Loki still transfixed. 

Yes. Thomas was a problem.  
And he wasn't going away any time soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me a shout! I'm looking for concrit!


	7. The Unexpected Results of a Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Another update. Some more stuff... Poor Mark! Awesome R Downey Jr... aaaannndddd....

Chapter 7  
The Unexpected Results of a Party

Leonard Nimoy, like most of Jewish-European descent, had a rather extensive extended family – and in Cambridge, running a sports-themed pub, was a female cousin and her husband, better known as the Horowitzes. Mrs. Rachel Horowitz wasn't rich – but she was a hard-working, down-to-earth mother to her young brood – and always opened her doors to her rather eccentric actor-cousin, Leonard, and his own bizarre household. William, the Canadian actor, and the boys. 

_Adopted boys, I guess_ , she thought, _but one is never sure of these things – but they are all such kind, fun boys._

Chris and Matt were particular favourites of hers because they were rather fond of sports – especially football and cricket (with a little rugby thrown in for good measure). That and they would often bring their friends to the Horowitz Sports Pub for a fun night of sportive enthusiasm with coolers. William, ever the “cool dad”, would join for 'safety purposes' – although 'safety' and 'William' in the same sentence is an oxymoron, as Leonard knows. 

At any rate, the sports bar was half an hour walk away, ten minutes if you went by the pokey bus. Most often, the boys walked down by themselves, especially when the weather was fine. These days, as school began to commence in earnest, Chris and Matt made sure to go over to the comfy, warm pub at least two nights a week. Leonard shook his head.

“School is starting – and everyone is worrying about supplies and marks and beginning assignments – but what are my boys thinking of?” he intoned mournfully. “Sports and fashion.”  
“Of course they would,” William rolled his eyes. “They're teens for goodness sake. Hell, when I was a teen –“  
“We don't need to know,” Ben said. “We can guess.”  
“Well, our boys are a sight lot smarter than I was at their age,” William sniffed.  
“Not saying a lot, dear,” Leonard replied mildly.  
“They all get good grades too!”  
“Really – so Chris's English marks last term were just a bad dream?”  
“Well, compared to some, perhaps –“  
“Like Tom.”  
“Stop comparing the young ones to Tom,” huffed William. “That's unfair. Besides, think of when we were young – sowing our wild oats. We had our heyday – they have to have them too! They'll grow out of it, soon enough. Like we did.”

Leonard gave William a look over his reading glasses. “That's up for debate.”

Just as William was about to retort, Mark and Tom came clattering in from another of Tom's early morning runs. Mark began to pull out bowls and spoons while his taller brother fished out cereal and milk. A black small phone on the plastic counter top vibrated noisily with a particularly jaunty jingle.

“Downey,” Mark scurried over and flicked it on to have a look. “It's a text from Downey.”  
“Hell, yeah!” William beamed at everyone. “And?”  
“And it's an invitation for an afternoon hang out with dinner.” Mark looked at his Father and then Dad, silently asking for their approval.

Leonard rustled his paper and said, “Be safe.”  
“Use a condom. Always,” William added.  
“Dad. It's not that kind of hang out!” Mark said, appalled.  
“Too bad,” William shook his head. “It should be! So make sure to wear something hot and don't bring your keys. We could pretend to not be home so you'd be potentially locked out – so you'd have to stay over at his house –“  
“How about not?” Tom shook his head over his Dad's antics. “That's a ridiculous idea.”  
“It might rain as well,” Ben pointed out. “Am I the only one watching the weather?”  
“Or we actually go out, so you aren't lying. We could go over to the Horowitzes and hang out really late.”  
“This is madness,” Tom blinked. “Dad, you can't be serious.”  
“Uh, I'm taking my keys with me,” Mark edged away and grabbed his cereal bowl.  
“Mark!” William cried. “Live a little!”  
“Dad. I don't want to pretend we're out,” Tom backed up his older brother. “Or hang out at the Horowitzes all night. Plus, making Mark stand out in the rain is just... cruel. Or something. Father!”

At this, Leonard intervened with a sharp “William!”. _Sometimes_ , he thought, _I feel like I have six kids, not five._

-0-0-0-

As Ben predicted, it did rain. Torrents. Downey's house, set back aways from the road, was only a fifteen minute walk – but William in his usual theatrical way decided to reenact Anne Frank and lock down the house. Tom texted Mark, asking him to wait awhile until he got the entire thing sorted. With Leonard's back up. Mark's responding text two hours later was incomprehensible enough to worry Tom. _Surely Downey wouldn't let his brother get drunk for the fun of it... would he?_

When Downey sent a text via Mark's phone a few minutes later, Tom felt a bit relieved. It was short and sweet – but reassuring: **Poker game got out of hand. Sorry. Mark rather drunk so will stay the night. Sry 4 inconvenience. Ttyl. Downey.**

_Dammit_ , Tom sighed. _I'll go over first thing tomorrow. He set his alarm clock earlier than usual. After his run, he'd drop by and rescue his hung over brother._ Tom glanced at the time. _12:45 AM._ More than time for him to go to bed.

Then he got a text from William: **Mark is getting some tonight – seeing as he's not back yet! Yes! Score!**

_Or maybe not..._

-0-0-0-

 "Well, there you go, William,” Leonard said when Tom let the two men know what really was up with Mark. “One in the morning – and we finally get news. I'm going to sleep.”

Both men were tucked into bed – but neither had been able to sleep with the unknown factor of Mark's visit hanging over their heads. Especially since Mark was usually the responsible child of the family who called if he was going to be late or out all night. Instead, William and Leonard were faced with their second eldest, looking very serious as he loomed there, uncertainly, over the end of their bed.

“He's drunk and probably miserable – you know he's not much of a drinker by nature,” Leonard sighed. “Worst case, he's raped or dead by tomorrow morning. Hope you're happy, William.”  
“What the hell are you going on about?” William snorted. “Downey is not some kind of serial killer! We already established that.”  
“That we know of.”  
“I'm going over in the morning,” Tom said firmly.  
“Nonsense,” William flapped a hand. “Let Downey have some quality alone time with him.”  
“Dad,” Tom sighed. “Tending Mark while he's abysmally hungover is NOT quality alone time by any definition of the term.”  
“It can be – I remember a time your father and I –“  
“Don't want to hear it, Dad,” sighed Tom. “Mark is always wiped out when he gets a hangover. You know how it triggers those migraines of his...”  
“Oh hell...” Leonard sighed from his side of the bed. “I forgot about that – it's been that long. Geez, William. Look at what you did.”  
“Bring his care pack,” William said brightly, unfazed. “He may not be able to move far – so he may have to stay the weekend.”  
“Glad someone's getting some enjoyment out of this,” Leonard said dryly. “Good night, Tom. Text me when you get to Mark. I want to know how he is.”  
“Will do,” said Tom and disappeared off to bed. 

-0-0-0-

At seven o'clock, Tom bumped into Chris and Matt in the kitchen. Together, the three young men ate their breakfast quietly and let themselves out. 

“What are you two doing up so early on a Saturday morning?” he asked them. Then paused at the sight of familiar, colourful duffel bags. “Ah. Right. Football tryouts?”  
“Yep,” Chris beamed at his equally tall brother. “It's that time of year. Again. And we'll get through this year, right, Matt?”

Matt nodded slowly. Less confident and outgoing than Chris, Matt was not as apt to show optimism – and out of the two didn't lean toward as much mischief. _More of a follower_ , sighed Tom, watching the two boys trundle down to the bus stop. _Too bad he follows Chris. On the other hand, his only other close option is Ben... not much better really... Mark and I are too old to be cool as well..._

With that less than encouraging thought, Tom turned away and began to work on his stretches in his family's back yard. After fifteen minutes, he was out on the road and then heading into the nearby forested park for his daily hour run. 

It was a lovely morning – just perfect for a run. The sun already burned away the light fall mists and the rain which had fallen the night before still laid heavily on the greenery, sparkling and dewy. Overhead, birds flew south – _for Spain or France_ , he guessed – but he did not envy them. There was much to look forward to this year. 

When he showed up at the Downey Mansion, backpack in hand, an hour later, around half past eight, Tom couldn't have felt more refreshed or rejuvenated. 

-0-0-0-

“Hey, it's, uh, Tom,” Orlando said to the silent breakfast at large, as he returned from answering the front door bell.

Everyone was demolishing eggs, toast, beans and the like – but they paused at the sight of their visitor. Martin had been busy spreading marmite on his toast while trying to read The Economist at the same time. Loki raised his eyes from his plate and froze at the sight of Tom and then sniffed. But his eyes never moved from Tom. Which was awkward. For the both of them. Johnny blinked owlishly at Orlando's announcement and Downey burst out of his chair almost immediately.

“Oh, hey, Tom. What's up? How can we help you this fine morning?”  
“I've come – about Mark,” Tom said.  
“You ran here – for your bro?” Johnny tilted his head, now curious.  
“No. I mean, I went on my morning run and thought I'd just check up on him. With the hangover and all.”  
“Huh,” Orlando shrugged. “Well, he's upstairs still. Hasn't come down yet. We are all a little hungover really. Except Not-A-Drink Downey here and Loki Of The Super Liver.”  
“Which room?” Tom was already turning to leave the room, feeling a little awkward under the silent Loki's critical green eyes.  
“Uhhh... I'll show you –“ and Downey led the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TOM!!! RUNNER!TOM HIDDLESTON! (think Bill from Suburban Shootout)... Yep. Basically - that outfit - but with a skimpier top. Next chapter - Loki's thoughts!


	8. The Ruckus Of An Unwanted Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we get Loki's hilarious reaction to Tom's run and his running outfit. Yep.

Chapter 8  
The Ruckus Of An Unwanted Visitor

The room returned to the quiet it was before the arrival of Thomas. Sounds of quiet munching filled the air, and then Downey returned to finish his plate before making up one for Mark and Thomas. Loki did not stir – but neither, he found, did the morning paper hold attraction. Not anymore. The foreign letters swam together in an annoying way – molding themselves into long, lean lightly muscled lines of lightly tanned flesh. Long, ungodly long leg legs – and gorgeous thighs encased in tight running shorts.

_Those things must be illegal_ , Loki thought as a firm, nicely rounded derriere rose up in his mind. Thomas leaving the dining room had branded an everlasting, surprisingly arousing visual treat for the god of Asgard.

And over two thousand years, he'd seen a lot – MANY – quality asses.  
None could top Thomas's.  
Excepting, maybe, his own.  
This was disturbing.

And above the criminally skin tight running shorts – an equally criminally light exercise top – a sleeveless thing which had ridden up slightly at some point, revealing a nice set of abdominal muscles.

And above those (if one could have godly powers of self-control to keep travelling upward) – a slender neck lightly covered in a sheen of sweat, begging to be licked. Every thing about the young man was given a Thor-like golden glow – and above that long, long neck – those sky-blue brilliant eyes.

“Did you see him?” chuckled Orlando after a while. “Stunk to high heavens. I wouldn't be seen in public like that – sweating like a horse.”  
“Really?” Downey mused. “I thought sweating was the ultra manly thing to do. Personally, I thought he looked... hot... Literally. And figuratively speaking.”  
“You think anything moving on two legs is hot,” Loki snorted.  
“I do not – I have standards.”  
“He looked – wild, anyways. Did you see his hair?” Jonathan shook his head. “Practically a 'fro!”  
“Yeah,” Orlando hastened to support Jonathan.

Martin sighed. Orlando had it hard for Johnny. _Always did, which is just too bad – because Johnny more than obviously has the hots for a certain foreign prince or whatever Loki is._

“His shirt and hair were, like, plastered in sweat. His house is practically next door – he could've showered first and then strolled over,” Orlando shook his head.  
“And his running clothes –“ Jonathan added. “One of those cheap outfits that you can get for a handful of pounds at the local mart –“  
“Or a thrift shop.”  
“Hey, don't diss thrift shops,” Downey exclaimed. “They're cool!”  
“Really?” Jonathan sighed. “He wants to be a runner for real – in those rags? Not cool.”  
“I don't think he wants to be a runner. That's just an interest of his,” Martin had to interject at this point. “I heard he's taking Double Honours in Classics and Acting.”  
“Really?” Downey's eyebrow rose. “Now that is hot. Who cares what he's wearing. I thought he looked like Mercury or something. You know, Loki, he's a lot like y –“  
“Yes, Loki,” Jonathan grinned at the Asgardian prince. “Do tell. Would you like it for your little brother, Hal, to run about like that?”  
“Absolutely not,” Loki sniffed.  
“See?” Jonathan said. “I told you. It's just not cool.”  
“Who cares about the cool factor?” Downey frowned. “Tom cares for Mark. Obviously. That's real bro love there – and that's just... well, that's rare. You wouldn't run around for me like that, right, Johnny?”  
“Hell, no.”  
“See?”  
“And that's something I'm sure Loki would know about too.”

Loki glared at the honey pot by his plate and felt a headache coming on. Thinking about Thor always did that to him. _Thor and Odin and Asgard_ , he thought morosely. _And..._ he sighed. _In his own brilliant way, Hal himself. Hal is... complicated to say the least._

“Yeah, Loki...” Jonathan smirked at the prince again. “So someone's obvious uncoolness has decreased your love of a certain kind of... eyes?”  
“Not at all,” Loki replied coolly. “They were brightened by the exercise.”

Awkward pause. Downey looked at Jonathan than Loki. Loki refused to meet his gaze.

“Well, it's too bad about Mark,” Orlando said, moving the conversation onward to something that he and Johnny had been discussing since their first move into the neighbourhood.  
“What about Mark?” Downey asked.  
“Well, he's a nice guy – but his family is simply frightful.”  
“And gold-diggers, no doubt,” Jonathan added. “I heard they have some family in London – a white collar kind of thing. Own a company or something like that, they say –“

The two boys laughed.

“Working class – or upstart middle class,” finished Jonathan. “I can smell them miles off.”  
“That's unkind,” Martin frowned.  
“But true,” Loki said. “Anyone marrying them from our class would always question their motivations. That's life –“  
“That sucks,” Downey frowned. “This is where being America is cool –“  
“Nothing to do with being American,” Jonathan said. “Everything to do with having commonsense.”  
“That is true,” Martin sighed. “Pre-nuptials are part of protection nowadays. Everyone knows that.”  
“Harsh,” mumbled Downey.

-0-0-0-

Around lunch, Tom appeared on the back patio to tell Downey that he had called in the family physician. Apparently, some monstrous migraine had been triggered and Mark needed stronger meds than the usual. Downey was beside himself and nearly called his own doctor in from London. Martin looked guilty (he had mixed the drinks) – the rest, mildly concerned and a tad bit derisive. Once the physician had come and gone (with a severe injunction of extreme quiet and lots of rest), Tom left his brother alone in the dark (and drugged out) and joined the rest after dinner. 

Everyone was hanging out in a rather large living room. Orlando, Martin and Downey were playing cards. Johnny was 'reading' beside Loki also similarly engaged – while ignoring the repeated beeping of his phone. Apparently someone was attempting to reach the man – and he was determined to ignore the various calls and texts. Eventually, with a disgusted sigh, he turned the smartphone off and returned to his book. Tom's eyebrow rose. The man was heartless, he decided. _Just brushing off the person without even some kind of an explanation – not even trying to see what that person wanted. Probably some argument I don't even want to know about_ , he turned away from the sight and surveyed the room.

“You wanna join us?” asked Downey, holding up the park of cards he had just finished shuffling.  
“No thanks,” Tom declined politely with a smile, looking around the room at the plenteous bookshelves lining the walls. “I prefer to read tonight.”  
“Wow. Reading on the weekend. Already! Insane!” Orlando's eyebrows rose.  
“Tom is a bookworm,” Johnny flashed them a shark-like grin. “Can't get enough of the written word.”  
“Uh, not really,” Tom replied. “Not that good of a reader, I'm afraid. I like doing a variety of things, so I don't have the time I'd like for the reading I'd like to accomplish.”  
“Like taking care of your bros,” Downey interjected. “I hope he gets better soon! I feel so bad for letting that happen. I had no idea he was so sensitive to alcohol –“  
“It's OK,” Tom said with a smile. “Thanks for the help, Downey.” He went over to the shelves, choosing a slim volume by Beckett. Acting in a modern play was one of the must do things on his life's to do list.  
“It's a small selection,” Downey said apologetically. “I suck at reading, so –“  
“We should increase it,” Johnny said. “Loki has an amazing collection at his English family estate.”

_As opposed to his not-English family estate?_ Tom sorely wanted to quip but held his tongue and tried to focus on his book instead. Tried was the operative word.

“It should be good,” Loki said stiffly, feeling like Tom's dancing blue eyes were laughing at him. “It's the most exotic and extensive collection to be found in the world.”

_Foreign royalty. Foreign royalty_ , Tom chanted to himself mentally. _Be polite, Tom._

“And you keep adding to it,” Johnny went on, slathering on the praise.

Loki wasn't having any of it, however, and just nodded and said something about libraries needing to be cared for and not forgotten and the importance of up-keeping the place.

“Upkeep!” Johnny said. “Your family estate is already pretty rad as a crib. Tucked away like that in the countryside – and the age and architecture –“ Johnny sighed. “It's like a set for some gothic film – so romantic. Rob. If we decide to settle in England, we should make a house just like Pemberley.”  
“Maybe,” Downey nodded absently, frowning at his cards. “That'd be nice.”  
“And build it really close,” added Johnny. “Practically next door. We could get the blueprints so we'd have a better idea to go about it.”  
“Or we could just buy Pemberley while we are at it. If Loki's selling.”  
“Don't be silly, Rob. I'm not joking. And Loki wouldn't do that.”  
“Well, Johnny, it's impossible to eve think about imitating Loki's place. I swear – magic went into its foundations.”

At this point, Tom couldn't help but stop reading altogether. _What the hell are they talking about?_ He wondered, feeling more than ever like Johnny and Downey knew something that they weren't letting on about. _And judging by Orlando and Martin's expressions, they aren't sure either._ Tom set down his book with a slight frown.

Sadly, the mysterious estate of Loki was not mentioned any further. Johnny had moved on.

“And so – how's Hal?” Growing up fast, I guess – now that he's hit his growth spurt, I imagine. Is he taller than me?”  
“Yes,” Loki said. “He always was, you know. Now he's a good head and a half taller than you.”  
“I miss him, the rascal,” Johnny sighed, fondly. “Him and Ned and all those pranks of theirs. Such a smart kid – and a bit of a pain in the ass – but in a good way.”  
“Perhaps,” was the simple reply.  
“And so talented! I heard he's a real diamond in the rough,” Johnny went on.  
“Now that is true,” Downey nodded. “The kid has got a lot to learn – but he's way mature in some ways – and he's got a gift of the gab too. Like someone I know,” here he flashed a grin at Loki, “but that's not surprising. Well, it always amazes me how kids these days grow up so fast. Tech, I guess. Their accomplishments are so much more than ours.”  
“Everyone is smart?” Orlando asked skeptically. “That can't be true.”  
“Well, they're so adept and flexible,” Downey explained, “and do extreme sports and go to posh schools and they can graduate young and tons are born with a cellphone or iPod in their hands – I don't know. This day and age gives young people so much.”  
“Really,” Loki raised a single dark eyebrow. “Your definition is too broad in my opinion, Downey. Really need to raise your standards, man. I can only think of five or six young people deserving of my praise.”  
“Agreed,” Johnny nodded.  
"Well, you must have some pretty impossible expectations,” Tom said.  
“Impossible?” Loki mused. “Not really. But I do hold to high standards.”  
“Absolutely,” Loki's ever-ready sycophant chimed in. “There's more to accomplishment than having above average geek abilities. A person has to have a variety of sporting and entertainment abilities – the ability to draw and hold a crowds attention. A sense of quiet confidence, particularly in the boardroom. Strong networks. Singing, dancing, an understanding of the arts. A grasp of a couple languages, if not a polyglot. And of course, a fit body, good posture and an appropriate sense of fashion.”  
“Even more importantly,” Loki added, “is a supple, curious, intelligent mind only found in a mind well-exercised by extensive reading.”  
“Wow,” Tom said, voice threaded now with a small vein of sarcasm. “You said you knew a handful – now I wonder if you know any at all.”  
“Well, time is a problem,” Loki mused. “But there are a few men and women I have been acquainted with who met these standards. Very few – but they exist. You don't think humanity can achieve greatness?”

_Humanity?_ Wondered Tom. _Where does this guy_ _come_ _from? Mars?_

“Uhhh... I think humans can achieve a lot, if we put our heart and minds into it,” Tom said. “I'm an optimist at heart, so yes, I think so – but chances of you getting one such person for yourself is pretty low.”

Downey whistled as he threw down his cards and folded. 

“Oooooo.... Loki – burn!”  
“Sorry,” Tom's apology rushed out as his slim hands rose to his mouth, his blue eyes wide as full realization of what he had implied hit him. “I'm so, so sorry.”

But deep, deep down, he wasn't entirely. Johnny and Orlando glared at him and rushed immediately to defending Loki and his ability to snag any paragon of virtue that he chose. Tom mumbled another apology and fled before he said anything else unfortunate. Downey shook his head. 

“Well, that's effed up,” Johnny said. “Trying to be all cool and modern with harsh realist bullshit. Like that's gonna attract people.”  
“Well, humans do many strange things to attract attention,” Loki shrugged off Johnny's and Orlando's encouragement. “I have seen stranger.”

With that, Johnny admitted defeat and joined the others at cards. Fifteen minutes later, Downey got a text from Tom saying that Mark still had a migraine and was still vomiting. Therefore, he should not move until the following day – at the earliest. Downey agreed – and within half an hour, Ben dropped off Tom's backpack with some clothes and a note from William.

“'Make it count!'” Tom read, annoyed.  
“Wha –?” Mark asked groggily.  
“Never mind,” Tom sighed. “Just rest.”

With that, the two turned into bed and slept as well as they could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: the awkward awkwardness of a visit by William.


	9. Extremely Awkward Awkwardness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh~ The awkwardness of the Shat. Prepare to cringe, dear readers... and Tom. @.@

Chapter 9  
Extremely Awkward Awkwardness

“So they ended up sharing a bed, huh,” Orlando noted. “Kinky.”  
“What?” Martin asked tiredly. He had yet to have his morning cup of tea. “What're you blathering on about now?”  
“Kinky stuff. Incest,” Jonathan said with relish. “Tom shared Mark's bed.”

Loki, looking up from his morning paper, frowned at the image that brought to mind – and got grumpier as he realized that he had to push down a rising tide of jealously. This was ridiculous. Asgardian Princes do not feel jealous about some sick bed brotherly... thing – but then again, neither did they make their own breakfast. _And yet_ , he sighed as he poured a some milk into his chosen bowl of cereal. _Here I am._

“Seriously, that's what you want to talk about at this time in the morning?” Martin sighed. “They probably shared a bed when they were younger – did you see their house? It's small for five kids and the parents. I bet they still share bedrooms – and you know they aren't really brothers. I mean, not really related, genetically speaking.”

At this awkward moment, Downey and Thomas entered, discussing arrangements to have the physician call with more medication since Mark was still not able to move without vomiting. Vomiting is always the conversation you want to hear about before breakfast. Not. Jonathan suddenly put his planned toast back into the bread box. Also, Thomas had apparently gotten a text from his "Dad". William wanted to visit his ailing son.

Right.

-0-0-0-

Sure enough, just after lunch, William, Chris and Matt made an appearance (Ben had elected to stay with Leonard that Sunday afternoon and discuss Middle Eastern politics). Poking his head in to check Mark over, William made sure that his son was indeed breathing and not at death's door. Once that was verified, he and the two boys were put in the living room with some tea – along with Downey and company. Which was what William had planned on.

Within minutes, everyone was chattering away. Downey, particularly, kept on apologizing about what happened to Mark and promising to care for him very well – which pleased William no end. 

“Yes, he is sadly too sick to move,” William shook his head. “Poor boy. He was always prone to these kinds of adversity...” He paused theatrically before continuing. “When Leonard and I found him at the orphanage, we knew that no matter his background as a child, he needed a loving home –“

Awkwardness.

“Well, he's not going anywhere,” Downey said, feeling a little moved himself by Mark's sad tale. He understood, having had a rough time during high school (drugs and alcohol and unsafe sex had happened among other things), and suddenly felt very protective toward his sick visitor upstairs. “He won't stir until he's a hundred and ten percent, right, Johnny?”  
“Uh, right,” Johnny agreed, totally deadpan. “He'll get the best care.”  
“Thanks so much,” William smiled. “You guys are the best. Mark will appreciate your thoughts, I'm sure. And wow... this is a nice place. You plan on staying here for the duration of your schooling here at Cambridge?”  
“I hope so,” Downey shrugged. “I'm a last minute kind of guy, so we'll see – but that's the plan. I guess you'd say that I'm the kind of guy who makes snap decisions.”  
“I can see that,” Tom said.  
“You can?” Downey blinked. “How did you know?”  
“Just... you know... things,” Tom replied vaguely.  
“Wow. Now I feel superficial.”  
“Not really – being honest and open is not any better or worse than being mysterious and deep.”  
“Tom!” William sighed. “You really shouldn't get into these kinds of conversations. Forgive him – Leonard just encourages all sorts of idiotic –“  
“No, it's OK,” Downey smiled at Tom. “I had no idea you studied people's characters.”  
“Well, I hope to act one day,” Tom explained. “So it's a good thing I find it amusing to dissect character and think about what makes people tick.”  
“Hm, then perhaps the countryside isn't suitable for you,” Loki frowned. “There is less to study. Being confined and unvarying.”  
“I don't know about that,” Tom disagreed with another light smile. “People do change over the years – it's interesting to watch that too.”  
“Totally,” William interjected. “The country has variety too – and besides, London isn't as pleasant as the countryside – dirty and crowded and expensive. Cambridge is more pleasant, isn't it, Downey?”  
“Well, I like whatever place I'm in,” Downey shrugged.  
“Yes, that is your strength,” Loki noted sourly.  
“At any rate, the countryside of England is by far the most awesome part of the island,” William crossed his arms, happy to go toe to toe with the arse who had snubbed his Tom. “And the people are just fine.”  
“I'm sure Loki agrees the people are fine,” sighed Tom. “Just not many kinds of people – compared to London which is more, you know, international and cosmopolitan. Anyways – has Zachary come around?”  
“Yes, he did. For a short while, with his father, to talk with Leonard about some school administration stuff. And we talked for a while. Mr. Levi isn't a bad sort – as long as you don't talk Middle Eastern politics with him – or anything to do with Israel's conflicts or Jewish theology or homosexuality...” William trailed off. “But anyways, Zach popped in. He's a nice boy – for a Jew.”

More awkwardness ensued.

“I mean, you know what with that thing they do when they're born and all –“ William went on, ignoring the horrified looks sent from Tom to Matt – and the titillated 'I can't believe I'm hearing this' look sent from Johnny to Orlando and Martin. Loki looked down his nose at William, green eyes examining the red-faced man as though he were a bug. “But I'm sure he'll get some nice kosher ass at some point. Which is nice for them. Have you met Joshua, his younger brother yet? A little strange.”  
“They seemed... nice...” Downey said tentatively, shooting a glance at Tom who suddenly wanted to just sink through the carpet and die. 

_Why is Dad so intent on behaving like this?_ He sighed. _Kill me now._

“Zach and Josh. Good kids. Of course, nothing compared to my boys. Mark, especially, has been a great boon for Leonard and I in our old age. When he was taking his A-Levels, he was quite a distraction for a few of his schoolmates – they were always writing him songs and things. Some of them weren't that bad.”  
“And that's when it all ended,” Tom rolled his eyes. “Poetry has the power to kill love, apparently.”  
“I heard it was the food of love,” Loki said.  
“Well, a passionate love, sure,” Tom shrugged. “Not some passing fancy or crush or puppy love or whatever. Trying to write sonnets for something like that is a waste of time and brain power. Trust me. Especially with Mark involved. He was kinda clueless.” 

Loki smiled then and there was a silence (mostly because the Nimoy-Shatners were still trying to process the fact that Loki was capable of a smile) – and then Johnny got up and said he had to run to the store and that Orlando was to go with him. Chris and Matt, aware that their time was drawing to a close, got up too – and William hoisted himself out of the soft couch and thanked Downey again for his care of Mark. He tried to get Tom to return home with them, but Tom just shook his head and repeated his intention of staying to keep an eye on Mark. Downey agreed heartily. 

Within minutes, the family was on the long walkway with the rest of their hosts, commenting on the greenery and stuff (that was more William) and how the front lawn would be perfect for a small football match. This brought up a bare-faced suggestion from an overly-excited Chris that Downey should hold a party which would include a football match on his front lawn.

Tom nearly face-palmed himself. Of course, this was totally up William's alley. Chris was undoubtedly his favourite – probably because, like himself, Chris exuded confidence and a certain kind of athletic animal vigour that William had enjoyed in his youth. Like William, Chris was more of a 'just do it' personality – easily evidenced by his forwardness. 

“You said you'd have a party,” Chris reminded Downey. “I think it'd be awesome.”  
“It would be,” Downey agreed. “As soon as Mark is better, I'll send round the invites. An all guy hang out night with stuff to do and a football match.”  
“And dancing?” Matt asked hopefully.  
“And dancing,” Downey smiled.

Tom wanted to get out a shovel and start digging his own social grave. 

“I know that Coach Kirk and Assistant Spock were planning on having a Sports Night party at the Horowitz Sports Bar,” Chris was saying. “You guys could come then as well!”

Everyone made agreeable noises and Tom watched his tiresome family head down the road – and sighed. Tom disappeared inside immediately and unashamedly hid in Mark's room, unable to meet the others' eyes. Meanwhile, downstairs Johnny and Orlando entertained Loki and Martin with a hilarious rendition of William and Chris. And yet, no matter how ridiculous Tom's family was, Loki couldn't stop feeling warm at the memory of a certain pair of blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, was it bad - or was it bad?


	10. The Verbal Sparring Increases

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a reviewer! Thanks for the encouragement. The show goes on! Some more Tom vs. Loki banter/sparring... and Johnny is getting a bit worried~ Kyehehehe

Chapter 10  
The Verbal Sparring Increases

Monday passed like Sunday – except that the house was empty excepting for the cleaning staff, the housekeeper who came in Monday through Friday, and Mark. Tom had to slip out for morning class, as did the others. Including Loki. Even snotty foreign princes had to go to morning class. This pleased Tom no end. Thankfully, his Mondays were mostly empty, so he was back before lunch with homework in hand and some notes that had been taken for Mark that morning as well. Downey had said he'd collect the other notes and bring them in the afternoon.

_Not that Mark can read anything_ , Tom sighed, contemplating his still sleeping brother. _Not any time soon._ With that, he took up a spot in the second living room (the one with all the bookshelves) and studied diligently until the house filled up their hosts. Then, the room was suddenly filled with young men – Martin working on homework with Downey, Orlando reading a book listlessly – and Loki writing a letter. To Hal, apparently. Johnny, who was supposed to be reading a thick textbook on European modern history, seemed less concerned about the factors effecting the start of World War Two and more interested in what Loki was writing. Several times in the following half hour, he told Loki to say hi to Hal for him and to tell Hal to practice his tennis and to brush up on his poker skills, et cetera, ad nauseum. 

Tom, looking up from his own homework, was amused. Johnny just couldn't shut up about Loki and his awesomeness. It was almost like he had been paid to make the tall aristocrat feel good. Almost. Johnny commented on Loki's old-fashioned writing ('it's like... Chaucer!'), on the fact that Loki wrote snail mail at all ('I mean, who does that anymore? But it's cool...'), on the fact that the paper had no lines ('how do you keep it all straight and not slanty?') and on the length of it ('what could you possibly have to talk about? We've only been here a month!') and so on. The way they “talked” made the situation even more funny, to Tom. It reminded him of some sort of comic modern play.

“Hal is going to love this letter,” Johnny said.

No answer.

“You write fast. Speed writing. Is that possible?”  
“I don't write fast.”  
“You must write a ton. Do you know what your writing speed is? Or your typing speed? How many letters do you write a year, do you think? I'd hate to have to write so much!”  
“Good thing you do not have to then.”  
“Tell Hal I wish I could see him.”  
“I already did.”  
“Hey – is that pen running out? You can have mine. This one has an awesome grip. From Japan.”  
“No. Mine is OK.”  
“Wow. You're still going at it, huh.”

No answer.

“Tell Hal I can't wait to go karaoke-ing with him. And let him know that I'm looking forward to seeing him at the butts. I heard that he's improving on his archery skills.”  
“Another time,” Loki said. “That can not fit in this letter.”  
“Well, never mind then. I'll see him during Christmas, right? Do you always write amazing, long letters like this?”  
“Hm. They are sometimes long, but I do not know if I would always call them amazing.”  
“I don't know. If you can write so much, it can't be anything but amazing.”

Tom wanted to barf. _That's it_ , he thought. _Soul barf. Internal mental, soul barf._ He also wanted to laugh.

“If you think a paragraph of four-syllable words is amazing, sure,” Downey laughed overhearing his brother's last comment. “Loki is always wordy beyond belief.”  
“I certainly do not write like you,” Loki replied stiffly.  
“Well, Rob's writing is pretty atrocious,” Johnny agreed. “What's grammar? Am I right? And your spelling!”  
“It's the damn auto-correct,” Downey sighed. “Messes with me every time. Probably because I'm thinking so quickly and trying to write too fast.”  
“Well, then, that's that,” Tom smiled. “You know your limitations. That's nice.”  
“Hah. Knowing his limitations?” Loki snorted. “I hardly think so. Downey is just blathering as usual – careless opinion and whatnot. That isn't humility. Not really.”  
“Really?” Downey asked.  
“Yes,” Loki shrugged. “You are proud of the way your mind works – how fast it moves and so the fact that you are intelligent – that justifies the poorness of your writing. It is like the way most young Asian children play the piano – quickly but with no sense of style or expression – as if doing something quickly justifies the lack of expertise or the mistakes in the performance therein. And yesterday, you told Mr. Nimoy-Shatner that you made your mind up at the last minute. You actually sounded happy about it – but really who would be? It is impractical at best – and inconvenient for everyone around you at worst.”  
“Loki,” Downey laughed then. “You think too much. And feel too much. No wonder you're so uptight. Listen – I'm the same man I was yesterday as I was today – more or less. I mean what I say at every moment. And maybe that will make me sound inconstant – but at least I will be true to myself.”  
“I may vomit,” Loki sighed. “'True to myself' indeed.”  
“Just because you can't be honest about yourself doesn't mean that we can't,” Downey replied evenly. “We don't all have to be calculating to enjoy life, you know.”  
“Hmph. You are the type of person who would go along with anything.”  
“That isn't always bad,” Tom said. “Some people dig that kind of easy-going person.”  
“Nice of you to say,” Downey grinned. “Loki likes hard, complicated things though – he always wants me to stand my ground – and I do. About things I think are important. Truly important, I mean.”

-0-0-0-

Considering Downey's words, Loki frowned. “Well, some people give in too easily to their friends,” he said sourly, remembering how Thor would often forget the social injustice enacted upon his younger brother as the heat of battle or banquet came over him.  
“To give into your friends is not kosher with you, I guess,” Thomas noted coolly.  
“No. To lack conviction is not to be celebrated.”  
“Well, conviction is all well and good – but friendship and love must have some affect on you. I mean – I'm not talking about following a crowd of people over a cliff or joining some cult and drinking poisoned Koolaid the next week, I mean – a good, close friend whom you regard. Sometimes, you need to give in.”  
“I think we need a specific example to work with here,” Loki said. “This is all very vague – we definitely need to figure out first what level of friendship we are working with here.”  
“Good night,” Downey laughed then. “Yes, let's consider the scenario more deeply. Are they buddies, fuck buddies, married – or what? And how tall and how heavy are they? Do they have diabetes? Cancer? What are their economic stations in life? This is hilarious. You do realize, Tom, that this could go on all night. You seriously want to rethink this conversation here and now. I mean, if I was taller and, well, more like Loki's older brother, I wouldn't be so freaked out by Loki – he can get intense, you know. Don't get him started on family, for example. Or adoption.”

Loki glared at Downey and then noticed a familiar look on Thomas's face. It was obvious that the mortal was stifling an urge to laugh at him. He glared. _Thomas is always laughing at me._ Loki noticed that Johnny didn't look happy. At all. Johnny seemed to have noticed the dancing light in Thomas's blue eyes as well. The young man scowled. He kicked Downey in the shin.

“You want us to stop, Downey?” Loki asked, deciding to close down the topic before a brotherly World War Three broke out.  
“Yeah, sure. At least until we're done with homework here. It's hard enough getting physics done without you in background extrapolating on social effects on the cosmos at large.”  
“No problem here,” Thomas agreed smoothly. “I'm sure Loki has his letter to finish too.”

Loki went off and finished his letter, during which Tom finished his homework and the other boys gave up their reading. Downey and Martin wandered off to deal with dinner, leaving Thomas and the rest alone in the living room, uncertain what to do next. In the end, Johnny pulled out a guitar and played a few tunes. Orlando couldn't play, but he had a nice voice for singing – and Loki took to watching Thomas as the blonde watched the two sing together. 

-0-0-0-  


When the guitar was thrust into Tom's hand, the blonde was flummoxed. For a second. Then, rising to the challenge, he took the guitar, strummed experimentally and began a neat tune by Mumford and Sons. Some Dylans followed, after the second song ended, Tom looked up and shivered as he realized that Loki's intense green gaze was fixed on him. The second song went just as well as the first song – tentative and sweet – but this time, Tom felt more uncomfortable. 

_Why the heck is he staring at me? Do I have something between my teeth? Ink on my face? He's not looking at Johnny. Or Orlando... It must be the atrocity of my guitar playing. He's probably planning my demise. Well, whatever._

Then, Martin and Downey joined them again and Martin put on the record player and several lively tunes started up. Couches and chairs were pushed back – and Downey danced with Orlando and then Martin – and Tom found himself confronted with Loki. Eye to eye. Green to blue. 

-0-0-0-

“Would you like to dance?” Loki asked.

Thomas didn't reply. Just blinked. Loki, feeling incredibly stupid, repeated his question.

“Would you like to dance?”  
“Oh. Sorry. No, I heard you the first time around. Still processing. Wondering if someone hit you on the head or something. Uh. Wondering if I should say 'yes', so we can dance together and you can laugh at me or make fun of me or something – or if I should just say 'no', since I love raining on people's parties. There. No. That's my answer. You can hate me now.”  
“I do not think I could hate you,” Loki said with a genuine, if reluctant smile. 

Thomas's blue eyes widened – but before he could say anything, Johnny dragged him off. Loki, watching Thomas move across the hideously patterned carpet in the arms of the shorter Johnny, couldn't help but feel a small spark of jealousy. 

More and more often, he found his mind wandering down dangerous paths. At night, Tom came to him – pulling off those clingy shirts of his – those leather jackets... Running long, pale hands (so kissable) through unruly curls... And then down, down to dusky nipples and below, lightly muscled flesh and below... Loki's pants suddenly felt uncomfortably tight. Once again, he'd stroke himself to completion that evening, breathing Tom's name into the night air. 

This was getting serious. In a bad way. 

-0-0-0-

That was Johnny's thoughts as well, as he contemplated Loki over breakfast Tuesday morning. It was a lazy morning because they didn't have class until the afternoon – and that meant more time with Tom hanging about and distracting Loki. _Or not_ , he thought.

“Let's go out for a walk,” he suggested to Loki. “I feel stifled. All those classes, yesterday – and we've got more coming up ahead.”  
“Hm,” Loki nodded noncommittally.

Half an hour later, Johnny managed to drag Loki outside, walking around from the back patio to the front of the house, slowly, while teasing Loki about his penchant for fine blue eyes and what his future family would look like.

“You'd have problems introducing Odin to William, wouldn't you? And would Chris and Matt understand the formality of the Asgardian court, I wonder?”  
“You seem to be giving this a lot of thought,” Loki said. “Strange, do you not think?”  
“And of course, there's the in-laws to consider. And their awesome friends – the Levis and the Horowitzes of the sports bar. And those people in London. Imagine their portraits hung up in Pemberley next to Frigga and Hal's. Although – can a painter get Tom's eyes down, I wonder?”  
“Perhaps,” Loki said slowly. “They are a very... special... colour, I must admit, but I'm sure the shape and colour could be copied – the life and expression within them... perhaps not.”

Just then, Tom and Orlando came down the front steps and paused at the sight of the two rounding the corner of the house. 

“Hey – you didn't say you were going out!” Orlando said, voice rising a little.  
“We weren't... much,” sighed Johnny. “Just a walk, Orly.”  
“Well, we can continue,” Orlando nodded, standing at Loki's side suddenly.

Tom couldn't fit on the walk if they were all to walk side by side and Loki frowned at the obvious impoliteness of the younger men. 

“Maybe we should go out onto the road and walk there –“ he suggested, not wanting to leave out Tom. Definitely not wanting to leave out Tom.  
“Don't worry about me,” Tom said cheerfully, starting his stretches. “I'm not really interested in slow walks. I've got my morning run planned anyways – I'll see you guys around.”

Sure enough – just as they had gotten down the front walk and turned down the street and gone down a little ways – Tom flew past them around fifteen minutes later. Watching the tight ass of the lithe young man pass him (teasingly clad in skin tight running shorts), Loki sighed. _When will Mark be able to go home? This is torture, by Odin. Pure torture._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Mark...
> 
> But the shorts make an appearance again. Poor Loki! So tortured!


	11. A Showdown Continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Tom vs. Loki. They're so feisty!

Chapter 11  
A Showdown Continued

Mark managed to crawl downstairs after dinner on Tuesday night, which excited Tom no end. He was cool with Downey and Martin, but wasn’t really happy with how Johnny snubbed him and how Loki kept staring at him. Unnerving. For real. Of course, Tom forced his discomfort down when he saw how happy Mark was at the sight of Downey coming into the living room. Watching Downey sit down by Mark, a little ways away from the others, talking quietly and paying the utmost attention to his older brother, warmed Tom’s heart. Downey was really just too good to be true.

Orlando and Martin, told to entertain themselves quietly, started a silent game of Cribbage. Johnny, as ever the shadow at Loki’s side, sat with the tall man and read a book – although he seemed more interested in Loki’s book than his own. Tom also had brought down another volume he was working through – a new translation of _The Iliad_ , which he had been looking forward to starting and which Leonard must have stashed for him at the bottom of his backpack.

Tom was fully engrossed in the beginning rant of King Agamemnon when Johnny jostled him as the younger man stretched and yawned, saying, “Wow! What a way to spend the night! And so cultured, don’t you think? Whenever I get my own digs, I won’t be happy unless I have an awesome library of my own.”

No one replied. Downey was busy chatting with Mark about the classes he had missed. Martin and Orly were locked in mortal cribbage kombat over the small table they sat at and Loki’s eyes did not move from his own book, which Tom had recognized as Heaney’s translation of _Beowulf_. He approved.

“Rob,” Johnny interrupted his brother’s conversation a little too abruptly to be polite. “You don’t really mean to have a party here – do you? You could at least get a vote from the rest of us before sending out invites.”

Downey frowned and raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. “I’m the one paying for all this house shit, if you recall – so I don’t see how your opinion matters. Or Orlando’s or Martin’s, for that matter. No offence, guys,” he added, glancing at the two card players.  
“None taken,” mumbled Martin.  
“As for Loki,” Downey considered his tall, dark-haired roommate. “He can hide in his room or rent a hotel room for the evening or something. I’m having the party.”  
“Well, I’m not against parties, per se,” Johnny sighed. “You know that. Just don’t let it be lame. No karaoke. No knitted sweaters. Get a real DJ. And better alcohol.”  
“Hm. A tad bit much for a simple game of football, isn’t it?” Downey asked. “Still… it might be fun.”

Johnny shrugged. “Just a thought,” he said and then, abandoning his pretence at reading entirely, got up and prowled about the room. After the second time around, he hovered over the back of the long sofa, eyeing the two equally long-legged men who were still very much engrossed in their respective books.

“Tom,” Johnny said, breathing rather unpleasantly down the blonde’s neck. “What do you say to going for a walk with me?”

Tom looked up and blinked at Johnny as though he’d just grown two heads.

“Dude,” he said, glancing obviously out the window. “It’s raining.” _And you hate my guts, man. Do I look like a masochist to you?_ He added mentally.  
“Oh, right,” Johnny sighed. “How about a turn around the room?”  
“You think we’re stuck in some kind of Jane Austen book?”  
“Jane Austen?” Johnny blinked. “Oh wait – that’s an Emma Thompson movie, isn’t it?”

Tom sighed – then Loki looked up at the two of them and smirked at Tom’s discomfort. Suddenly, Tom didn’t feel so welcome on the couch anymore – his natural instinct to rise however was taken by Johnny as reluctant acquiescence. Watching Johnny strut around the room with an annoyed Tom in tow, Loki was definitely amused and shut his book, unconsciously. Johnny grinned.

“Wanna join us, Loki?”  
“I would rather not,” Loki replied smoothly, his green eyes flickering over Tom’s hunched shoulders and blue smouldering glare aimed down at Johnny’s dark chestnut head. “Besides, would that not defeat the purpose?”  
“What’re you babbling on about,” Johnny pouted. “What do you think he’s up to, Tom?”  
“Uhhh… I have no idea,” Tom said, wanting very much to sit down and wrestle with Homer. “Why don’t we just ignore him?”  
“What? Ignore him?” Johnny said aghast. 

Tom sighed.

“Loki, what are you talking about?” Johnny had to ask. Of course he did.

Loki’s returning smile was a little unsettling, but Tom refused to back down as Johnny circled round and lounged in front of Loki, showing off his latest pants he had bought down at Saville Row a month back – tailored charcoal trousers with a super-thin grey pinstripe. Above it – an artistic black and red and grey t-shirt, over which had been shrugged on a small vest which matched the trousers. Next to him, in black skinny jeans and a bright blue shirt, Tom felt a bit under-dressed.

“Well, there are two reasons for you getting up and walking around like that,” Loki shrugged. “One is because Johnny wants to gossip or tell Tom some secret – and obviously, if it is about me, having me join defeats the purpose. Or, it is because Johnny wants to show off his outfit – and force me to compare him to Tom, in which case, I can see you both better from this sofa.”  
“Pervert!” Johnny crowed. “You’re a pervert, aren’t you! How are we going to wreck vengeance on him?” he asked Tom playfully.  
“Uhhh… I’m not so much into vengeance, really,” Tom said. “But if you really want to annoy him, just laugh at him. I’m sure you know some kind of story you can share about Loki wherein he behaved like an ass –“  
“That’s impossible,” Johnny shook his head. “Loki can never be laughed at.”  
“’Never can be laughed at’, huh,” Tom cocked an eyebrow, hands settling on his hips. “Like, you can’t physically laugh at him, or you don’t know how to laugh at him, or if you laugh at him, he kills you?”

Loki looked affronted – Johnny looked shocked.

“Just curious,” Tom shook his head. Paused. “You guys are supposed to laugh at this point in time. It's a joke.” Tom ran his fingers though his unruly curls and sighed. “What a pain. I love a good laugh.”  
“Hm. I suppose idiots can find anything laughable – including wise or good people,” Loki mused.  
“Oh, no,” Tom agreed. “That can’t be right. But c'mon, I mean – it's OK to laugh a little at faults or flaws or foolishness. Maybe you just have none of those.”  
“Everyone has flaws,” Loki frowned. “That goes without saying – what is important is to work on the most public ones – so that you can avoid ridicule, do you not agree?”  
“Ah,” Tom nodded. “Like vanity. Or pride.”  
“Vanity is a problem – but I should think a mature man would be in control of or at least aware of pride.”

Tom tried not laugh in Loki’s face at the man's obvious hypocrisy. Choking down an increasing need to laugh, the blonde-haired young man turned away, leaned forward and picked up his book. 

“Well,” Johnny smirked, eyeing Tom's retreat. “So you lost.”  
“Hm? Really? I guess I must have,” Tom couldn’t help but let a little ‘ehehehe’ slip past his lips as he shook his head in amusement. He cast a glance at Johnny, then Loki. “You heard him. He’s perfect – so I’m afraid I can’t laugh at him.”  
“I did not say I was perfect,” Loki frowned. “I can have a bit of a temper, to put it mildly, if you really annoy me – and some people have called me resentful. Hm, rather, I find it hard to forgive people who have done me harm – and I cannot easily forget rampant foolishness. My good opinion once lost is often lost forever.”  
“Oh,” Tom winced. “That does sound pretty bad – so I can’t laugh at it, really.”  
“Everyone has faults,” Loki repeated.  
“And your fault is to hate everyone,” Tom said.  
“And yours is to wilfully misunderstand them,” Loki replied with a sharp smile.  
“OK, time out, time out,” Johnny rolled his eyes. “You guys are just too intense, for reals! Someone! Martin – Orlando – can I join you?”

With that, the evening past quietly – Loki on one end of the couch, Tom on the other – but Loki’s mind was far away from the contents of his book. In fact, it was very much focused on the man sitting not too far off from him. And the same could be said for Tom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When is Mark going to get out? Will they leave anytime soon? Will Loki survive Tom's sensuality? LOLZ.  
> Let me know what you think!


	12. Finally, Returning Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back home. And preparing for the next phase...

Chapter 12  
Finally, Returning Home

The next morning, Mark, ignoring William’s doleful texts, packed up his small care package and told Tom that he was more than ready to return home by lunch. Tom, ignoring William’s repeated calls (going so far as to turn off his phone), agreed. It was only a short walk and even if they took their time, they would get home rather quickly and Mark could rest for the remainder of the day in familiar surroundings.

Tom was missing his bed and knew that Mark wanted to think in private about what had happened, and maybe even share with Tom about what had gone on during that first night – but only in the privacy of their small shared bedroom. 

So, around ten-thirty, Tom came downstairs and announced that he would return home with Mark after lunch. There was a chorus of ‘oh! That’s too bad!’ from everyone – except Loki, who just kept on eating as though Tom had just announced the weather or some such thing. Tom actually felt relieved that there was at least there was one other honest person in the house besides Downey. He was tired of Martin’s platitudes and Johnny’s catty witticisms and Orlando’s escalating looks of annoyance cast his way. 

And there was Loki's creepy staring as well. He would be more than happy to leave the house.

-0-0-0-

Loki was also beside himself with relief – although it would not behoove the God of Mischief and Lies to show his cards so easily. On the other hand, he did not dissemble and merely nodded at Thomas’s quiet announcement. 

Yes. Relief. That was the word. _Not happy. Nor sad. Just relief._ After all, Thomas was beginning to haunt Loki’s dreams – never a good sign. The sooner the young man was away from Loki’s daily life, the better. Also, Johnny would stop behaving like a fool and return to “normal”. _Yes._ After all, Johnny had begun to really treat Thomas rather impolitely and it was starting to spill over into teasing him incessantly about married life to such a mortal…

In fact, starting now, he was going to ignore Thomas altogether, thereby lessening Johnny’s interest in teasing him, crushing any feelings that he might have for Thomas and furthermore not giving Thomas any ideas (just in case his look-alike had noticed something). Three birds in one stone. 

Sometimes Loki amazed himself.

With Thomas and Mark leaving for certain, lunch passed by civilly enough and everyone had an awesome time. Johnny kept his remarks to a minimum although he had to comment on how much Thomas and Loki looked alike – and wasn't Thomas adopted? Perhaps they were long lost brothers? 

Awkward. 

Particularly since Loki knew that the mortal more than likely was this universe's counterpart to himself, and also because his thoughts were far from brotherly toward said mortal. Thomas also looked slightly amused, no doubt realizing that Loki was more annoyed than he about their resemblance to each other. 

Happily, this was all glossed over when their host and prime guest sat down. Mark and Downey, of course, were having the best time ever out of the whole group. Loki sighed at the sight of Mark and Downey’s head close together as they contemplated a diagram that Downey had brought back from another morning class. 

_Ah. Young love._

Some days, Loki felt his age. Watching Thomas’s hand molest his neck, Loki felt older than ever. 

-0-0-0-

Of course, Tom and Mark’s return home was met with mixed responses. William was very happy to chatter on and on about how kind and nice and sweet and gentlemanly and amazing Mr. Downey was – and also he found some breath in him to complain about the fact that Mark should have tried to stay longer, Mark should’ve tried to make a move on Downey, etc etc. 

Leonard smiled at Tom and said something to the effect that he missed having his more logical, mature sons around. Tom knew that he had probably been bored to death during the evenings when they normally discussed more profound issues like societal norms or the war in Afghanistan or some such hot topic.

Ben, the only other child who would have been interested in being chatty about thoughtful things, was currently going through a small phase of intense reading. No doubt, after a few weeks, he’d resurface with his usual cheerfulness and blow them all away with some ridiculous notion. They would see. Tom, poking his head into Ben, Chris and Matt’s large room, saw the state of Ben’s ruffled hair and knew better than to intrude.

Chris and Matt were the least affected by their older brothers’ return. Probably it was because the football coaches had finally drawn up the lists and both boys had made it into the football team. Now life revolved around footwork and jogging and eating and keeping fit and talking about how they wished they were in America where there were tons of sexy cheerleaders to watch on the sidelines.

Typical teenage boy stuff.

Also, the hot topic of the moment was the fact that one of their coaches had publicly dumped his girlfriend at the first football practice the night before. Well. That was interesting. _Perhaps_ , Tom supposed, _it would be interesting to young boys – but that can’t be professional at all._

William loved the drama however. Drama amused him greatly – and when Chris told the story of one boy who had showed up with a lucky ring for the tryouts – and how he had ended up totally ragged on because he was gay, William was all agog with finding out if the bullies had been dealt with and how. 

Exchanging glances, Tom and Mark sighed. They were home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up... Mr. Collins, er, Adam Baldwin arrives!
> 
> Watching Thomas’s hand molest his neck... what do you feel?  
> Be honest!


	13. An Unwelcome Addition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The introduction of an unwelcome addition. Poor Adam!

Chapter 13  
An Unwelcome Addition

“Well, William, things are going to get tight soon,” Leonard said, a few days after Halloween, at the breakfast table.  
“Tight? You lost a course?” William’s blue eyes widened as he spun around, and pointed a wooden spoon at his partner. “Or you got fired? Leonard! You got fired!”  
“No,” Leonard sighed. “Not that. Let me finish, William. I’m saying that we’re going to have an addition to our home.”  
“Addition?” William frowned. “Well, we need to add a few rooms to our house –“  
“I’m talking about a person.”  
“Downey? He’s coming over?”  
“What?” Leonard snorted. “No. A semi-permanent addition.”  
“But we said we wouldn’t adopt anymore after Chris,” William frowned some more. “You haven’t been looking at those African aid commercials again, have you?”  
“You are trying to be stupid on purpose, right?” Leonard sighed. “I’m talking about a distant relative – on my non-Jewish side, I mean.”  
“Oh. OK.”  
“You met him before – he’s from America. Tall fellow. Brawny – but quiet. Remember Adam?”  
“What’s he doing here?”  
“Has some sort of course or seminar he needs to take at Cambridge for his company. You know how these businessmen need to upgrade their education at the drop of the hat to keep up with the latest stuff in commerce or something,” Leonard waved a hand vaguely. Commerce was a mysterious thing to the actor. “I've heard about the company before – from Horowitz – some big shot affair, if I remember correctly. Viking Securities. I don’t know. But anyways, you might remember his mother. Clarice Baldwin.”  
“Oh, hell, it’s THAT woman!”  
“Yes.”  
“That woman?” Ben asked. “Do I want to know?”  
“You had to ask, didn’t you?” Mark mumbled.  
“Of course he did,” Tom forced a smile at Ben. “Our resident Mr. Curious.”  
“Adam Baldwin is the son of the woman who got a large percentage of the settlement after your grandfather’s death –“  
“A harpy if there ever was one,” William muttered. “I’m not having her… spawn in my house!”  
“Spawn,” Tom’s brow wrinkled. “That’s a bit harsh.”  
“Let’s just say that if she hadn’t done what she did – which was screw over your father, Downey wouldn’t have been the only millionaire on this street.”  
“Hardly, William.” Leonard sighed. “It was not even half a million.”  
“It was a tidy sum!”  
“Now, now, William. Money isn’t everything.”  
“No, but it helps,” was the short reply.  
“Anyways, he is coming.”

Silence.

Then, Tom said, “Uh, why?”  
“I had better just read his email,” Leonard waved a piece of paper, settled his glasses more firmly on his large nose and read aloud. “'Dear Professor and Uncle Leonard, How has it been going on the other side of the big pond? Despite the recession and recent economic upheaval, I hope life has been treating you well. I know that our past, thanks to my mother and the affair concerning the will, has been sadly full of grief and conflict. However, I wish to extend my personal apologies that such an affair could not have been settle more amicably, especially since I have already been blessed by my biological father and such situations as are provided by good fortune in life. Recently, I have taken up with an international commercial law firm as very junior partner – the Viking Securities Limited, which is run by the influential and mysterious Odinsons who hail from Northern Europe, but who have, within the past twenty years, begun to spread in influence through the entire Continent and even into the States. Such an amazing family – with such business acumen as to be able to spring up overnight in such a devastated economic situation – and hold remarkable staying power, is truly a sight to behold. Mr. Odinson himself is, they say, a magnificent old man – and I had the joy to video conference with the great man himself three days ago. The reason for this auspicious meeting was because the other day, I was interviewed by the New York Senior Partners for a job transfer – and apparently, having noticed my hard work and initiative, they wish to send me to the main headquarters to work in London. However, this is all contingent on me completing a few specialized seminars that are run by said company at the prestigious institution at which you currently work. Immediately, I thought of you, dear Uncle, since the matter of my mother's estate is weighing on my mind as she continues to age – and I will be in Cambridge for the duration of a month or two. Perhaps you could give me some advice not only concerning the articles of your family which I may be able to secure for you –'“ Here, Leonard paused and said to William. “Well, there you go – we might get some of Dad's antiques back. You'll love those!” Then he continued on. “'– but also on the issue of lodgings in Cambridge, since I will be new to England and the town. Furthermore, it is my hope that I may rebuild the bridges between our fractured family and find perhaps more than common ground between myself and my dear cousins. I hope to see you within the week, Yours Sincerely, Adam Baldwin.'”  
“So, he's coming soon?” William's voice rose unhappily.  
“More or less,” Leonard said. “Within a few weeks. I know you don't like the idea – but think about it – a chance to get back some of that furniture – and the knick-knacks which belonged to Mother...”

William sighed.

“And he sounds most polite and mature,” Leonard went on.  
“More like a stick in the mud,” Chris whispered to Matt who nodded.  
“At any rate, I thought about it – there's that spare bedroom. He's around the boys' age – and he'd fit right in. Plus, we could set up some kind of small rent fee,” Leonard went on. “Just to cover basic room and board.”  
“Well, fine,” sighed William. “You can say yes. I guess.”  
“Thank you,” Leonard smiled. “We appreciate your sacrifice. Don't we, boys?”  
“Yeah,” Matt said, uncertainly, while Chris blinked and shrugged and said, “Sure, uh, whatever.”

Mark, Ben and Tom just nodded their heads and wondered who this Adam Baldwin really was – what he really was like – and how much stuff they could get from the Baldwin family. Leonard didn't talk much about his father and the Nimoy fortune, but there were a few things that he let drop about what the old family home used to hold – and it sounded nice to them.

“So, he wants to make up to us all the crap that his family did to our family?” Mark asked skeptically. “How's he going to do that?”  
“I guess it is as his email says,” Leonard shrugged. “His mother is older now... and is probably far, far over the hill and on her way out, so to speak. Maybe he wishes to give back some of the settlement to us?”  
“That would be nice,” sighed William. “I would like to go on a cruise.”  
“You would,” Leonard snorted.  
“I think his little bromance for Mr. Odinson is more interesting,” Tom had to point out, impishly. “I mean, he sounds like he's got a bit of a fanboy crush there.”  
“Well, if he's working with Viking Securities Limited,” Leonard said, “I wouldn't be surprised. They're the new thing, nowadays. Commercial law and technological innovations – you name it, they have it. Fingers in many pies, you know.”  
“How do you know this stuff?” William asked peevishly. “I didn't know you knew so much about commerce.”  
“I don't,” sighed Leonard. “But you'd remember junk like this too if you had it burbled in your ear for two hours on end at the Horowitzes.”  
“Well, he sounds quite posh for an American,” Tom said. “You think he's trying to put on airs since he's coming to England?”  
“Hm. Who knows? He does seem the obsequious grovelling type,” Leonard smiled at his son. “I'm excited.”  
“Well, he's got faultless grammar,” Ben had to point out. “Or a high-level secretary. Either way, good sense.”

Chris and Matt didn't give a hoot either way – unless Adam was on their football team or on some possible competing football team – they wouldn't notice their not-quite-related cousin. William, however, got everyone in line. When Adam showed up on their doorstep in the afternoon a few weeks later, he was surprised, flummoxed and then pleased to be greeted by a host of smiling young men and an open invitation to a nice, cozy spare bedroom for a very affordable price.

It was a no-brainer. 

He said yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, we all know how this ends - particularly if you have read Pride & Prejudice... :P If you haven't, this won't seem as funny to you. I am seriously sitting down and writing the entire book out in a new tone. It's hilarious how everything is fitting. 
> 
> Austen Rocks!


	14. Adam's Essence Unfolds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More on Adam and where he's coming from. I'm trying to make him a bit less laughable than the original Mr. Collins. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 14  
Adam's Essence Unfolds

Adam was a tall, not super handsome, very earnest looking man. When he smiled, his teeth and tan skin contrasted beautifully, reminding everyone that here, here (!) was a true-blue American. He was tall – easily beating Chris – and even more interesting, he looked rather solid. Neither fat, nor thin. There was muscle on him. Tom's first impression of him was more in line with soldier or policeman, not a lawyer or clerk. Matt later admitted he had first thought of bouncers.

But he looked so serious! When he sat down and opened his mouth, streams of serious conversation flowed out. Tom and Mark, more mature, rolled with it quite well. Chris and Matt were openly disappointed. Ben didn't care. Predictable responses all around. 

Of course, things were a tad bit awkward when he began to effusively compliment William on his decor and style. Apparently, Adam was more than familiar with the state of Nimoy-Shatner house, and somehow seemed to know how to stroke William's ego. Leonard appreciated it – if only because it amused him to see William relax, puff his chest out and proclaim a bunch of laudatory things about working in the home and other such nonsense.

Then praise turned toward the boys themselves, which made Tom shift and sigh. Mark just looked long-suffering. They were all used to their Dad's inordinate need to brag about his sons – but they didn't have to like it. 

“Well, my boys will go far in the world – and with their own guts and brains and good-looks to help them along, since they do not have the financial backing that other children may have,” William said.

Tom sighed, bit his lip and struggled to hold his tongue. Adam, however, just nodded and smiled and said in a quiet, even tone: “Yes, that is unfortunate that things turned out the way they did between my mother and I and Uncle Leonard. She is a woman who fights for her own blood – and is not thoughtful to others who may have more right to certain things than she. But that is another matter all together, which I wish to discuss with you more at length, Uncle. Furthermore, I am more than prepared to get to know all of you guys better and other kinds of arrangements could be –“

But what arrangements their step-cousin-in-law was mysteriously mentioning was lost as the timer dinged far away, signalling the end of the baking limit. With that, everyone trooped into the dining room, slowly, so as to allow their verbose cousin some time to comment on the decorations in the hall and in the dining room itself, as dinner was served by Tom, Mark and William. 

Dinner was an interesting affair. There was a lot of focused eating (wolfing down) on the part of Chris and Matt (which was always a good thing because that meant less idiocy all around) and a lot of talking on the part of Leonard and Adam, whilst the others listened and ate at a more normal pace. Adam went on and on and on about his work, about the new office he had visited the previous week in London, about his new office desk, about his new office laptop loaned to him by the company, about the new flat he would live in situated in a suburb of London, of the exorbitant price of London, of how he was contemplating Oxford as a future home, about the commute from Oxford to London, about driving on the 'wrong side' of the road (that was the most amusing part of the conversation), about Mr. Odinson, about the Odinsons and more and more and more about the Odinsons. Apparently, he had gone to a family after dinner work party a few days past, in which he had been invited as an attache for one of the senior partners. The discussion alone describing the room in which the party had been held took up a good twenty minutes. 

“So I hear that Mr. Odinson is very mysterious,” Leonard said, finally managing to get a word in edgewise. (There's only so much you can take before you get sick and tired of a description about a chandelier.)  
“Yes,” Adam nodded, spearing another piece of pasta absently. His eyes had a glazed kind of look of adoration which made Tom want to laugh. “Well, he is not in town often, they say – so it was a great honour to see him at all.”  
“Really,” William said. “Where does he go?”  
“I heard that he has business all over the world to deal with – other far off places, or so Mr. Gallup said, we may never see in our lifetime.”  
“Wow. Impressive. Too bad we can't have jobs like that,” William sighed. “And does he have family? A wife? You mentioned a son?”  
“Yes, his wife lives abroad, rarely coming to England. And I heard there are a couple of sons. Or rather, a biological son and two by adoption. I am not certain – I saw none of them at the party. Mr. Gallup told me I may meet them in the future – and I am to read up on the family as part of my homework here. Gave me a dossier and everything. Still, at the party, there was another relative there, a really sweet girl.”  
“Daughter?”  
“I think not. More like a niece or a cousin several times removed.”  
“Ah. I see.”  
“Yes. She was very graceful and beautiful – and incredibly talented. Miss Sigyn is a very shy, retiring girl, obviously educated on the Continent. You can tell by her mild, yet charming accent. They tell me that she is not very active – and remains at home for most of her time.”  
“Oh, so she isn't into clubbing or stuff like that,” Leonard noted. “Sounds sensible to me.”  
“Of course, no clubbing or any kind of entertainment like that,” Adam shook his head vigorously. “That would not be proper for an Odinson, I would imagine. No. The entire family, I hear, holds itself in high decorum and there is no scandal attached to any of the members.”  
“So you met her personally? And didn't try to chat her up?” Matt asked, eyes wide.  
“I was introduced to her – and was happily able to compliment her a little,” Adam nodded proudly. “Good thing I had prepared a few things to say just in case Mrs. Odinson was going to be there.”  
“You often prepare compliments for when you meet women?” asked Leonard curiously, eyeing his step-nephew-in-law with something akin to a scientist discovering a new species. “Or can you fly by the seat of your pants as well?” 

Tom, understanding that his father, as an actor, was not only having a little fun at his nephew's expense but was also curious at to figuring out the mindset of so bizarre an individual, found it difficult to suppress a laugh.

“Well,” Adam paused to chew his pasta and think for a moment. “I guess I prepare about seventy percent of my complements. The rest I make up as I go along.”  
“Amazing,” Leonard said, almost reverently. His nephew was as absurd as he had hoped. For just a wee second, he let his eyes slip to Tom's and then he found it hard to keep a chuckle from rising, for he could see that his second eldest was just as amused as he was.

That evening, as deference to their newest addition to their household, Adam was allowed to be in control of the remote and they ended up watching a variety of shows ranging from NBC news to the last twenty minutes of some documentary about a yarn mogul* on A&E Bibliography and then another half an hour of some coverage on what certified public accountants did at work**. Adam's love of documentaries, Tom could see, impressed Ben no end. His younger brothers... not so much. Chris and Matt, twenty minutes in, had adopted expressions more suited to drooling apes and, at the half hour mark, Chris couldn't take it anymore.

He turned to William and said, “Hey, Dad, did you know that Cousin Abel is going to let go Bobby? And if Bobby is let go, he's going to be hired by Coach Kirk to take care of the football grounds. Cousin Rachel told me so – I think I'm going to go over tomorrow night and see if it's true – 'cause I know that Bobby used to work as on cricket fields before – which is pretty cool – and of course, the gang are pumped 'cause Bobby has a real sense of humour about –“

“Chris!” Tom and Mark's voice descended from the other end of the dim room – but the damage was done. Adam muted the documentary and grimaced.  
“I forgot we have a younger audience here tonight. I guess kids these days don't really get into documentaries, huh.”  
“Well, uh, sorry about that,” Tom said. “My brothers are idiots.”  
“Ignore them,” Mark hastened to add. “I never knew that accountants were so... uh, well, busy during the early spring. Did you know, Ben?”  
“Actually, I did,” said Ben. “I've seen this documentary before.”  
“You would have,” Chris mumbled.  
“Let's play a game instead, Uncle Leonard,” Adam suggested. “How does chess suit you?”  
“A good idea,” Leonard agreed equably. “We can leave the idiots to themselves – let's go to my study so we can consider the game in peace.”

William apologized again, but Adam reassured everyone he wasn't offended, admitting that he'd become something of an old man thanks to his hard work in the offices over the past five years. Metaphorical hearts were appearing in Ben's eyes by this point and Tom resisted an urge to face-palm. With that, Adam followed Leonard out, leaving Tom in control of the remote and a deep desire to laugh at the whole situation. As retribution for the gaffe, Tom and Mark enjoyed watching some tennis to the chagrin of Chris and Matt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The documentaries are real:
> 
> *Barry Wolnosceski: Life of a Yarn Mogul  
> **X-treme Employment: Certified Public Accountants 
> 
> LOL! 
> 
> Next up: Adam's Intentions. DUN DUN DUN...


	15. Adam's True Intentions and A New Player

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam's true intentions... revealed... dun dun dun...
> 
> And a new character!

Chapter 15  
Adam's True Intentions and A New Player

Adam was a good guy. Truly. He wasn't the smartest banana in the bunch – and that much was clear from the get go. There was a kind of stolid feeling about him, and, Leonard supposed, that if his mother hadn't been as batshit crazy as she had been, Adam would have probably turned out to be more like Matt in Chris's body and less like Ben in Chris's body. Yet, there was a nice humility about the man – and if Adam were to converse at length with Tom and Ben, he would admit with grace that he could never pretend to the depth and intelligence they carried. 

So, to consider Adam a worthless member of society would do Adam a great injustice, for his heart was in the right place – even if he struggled with getting all of his thoughts out. He was also always willing to learn (hence his love of documentaries) and the man was, if nothing else, a hard and industrious worker as the senior partners had noticed previously.

And there was his mother to consider. The woman had married Leonard's younger brother, Steven, bringing with her a son from a previous relationship. When Leonard came out of the closet, Old Man Joe had nearly died of apoplexy on the spot, cut Leonard out of the will and bequeathed almost the entirety of his estate to Steven. Steven had had the good grace to live a little longer than his father, but then died at the unfortunate age of forty thanks to a heart attack brought on by a rather rough car accident. 

Although Leonard should have gotten a little of his family's heirlooms back, “the harpy”, Clarice Nimoy nee Baldwin nee Thompson, had dug her claws into the money and refused to let a penny go. William never forgave her. Adam, too young to realize what was going on, grew up, as a result, very alone and isolated – and eventually, the two moved to America – where he continued to live under the thumb of his increasingly eccentric mother.

Considering what his mother was like, it was no surprise to Leonard and William how easily Adam bent his neck to authority figures and his bosses alike. Servility and hard-work. Two key words. Leonard had a feeling that no matter how crazy Clarice got, Adam would still love her and come at her beck and call. It spoke of a good heart, if also a lack of commonsense.

Clarice was still in America, according to Adam, who spoke a little of her over chess. Reading between the lines, Leonard gathered she was a real nut-case, entirely devoted to a clan of Cocker Spaniels and contacting her two ex-husbands through a budgie with the help of an aromatherapy cult. And she only wore purple. Fascinating.

In comparison, the Odinsons would provide a better, more healthy sense of guidance for Adam – and comparing the Odinsons to Clarice, Leonard had to admit he would take the Odinsons any day. _It's no surprise he's clinging to them_ , the older man sighed. _Maybe Tom and Mark can help him out. They're younger than he is – but more approachable... And Tom has a lot of commonsense._

-0-0-0-

Leonard's thoughts, bizarrely enough, intersected with Adam's own. Before he had left home, Adam's mother had given him a talk. She had discussed at length the fact that the money and houses (plural) would be naturally bequeathed to him, she related a few stories from his father(s) beyond the grave, she warned him against the Nimoy-Shatners and their alarming brood, and she made him promise to seriously consider the next step of life: marriage.

She need not have worried, per se. Adam was already considering the matter. He had a problem though – he was fully aware that what he considered appropriate for a long-term partner was probably far, far different from what his mother was thinking. William and Leonard with their successful alternative lifestyle could help him, however.

So he nodded, patted her hand, complimented on her new purple nightie, and lit her some more incense sticks. Then, when the seniors booked him the flight (for which he had already packed in his excitement), Adam left with a firm kiss on her wrinkled brow and a promise to write. 

He escaped. Escaped to a chance at a new life with the amazing Odinson company. He would get a nice flat, a nice car, a convenient parking spot, a steady income – and then a partner. Man, woman – he didn't so much care about that detail, but Adam wanted to fall in love. 

He was ready.

With those feelings in mind, the earnest man stood on in-laws' front door and surveyed the family with a mixture of hope and rising interest. 

For the Nimoy-Shatners were indeed interesting. In fact, beyond better than what he had expected. There had been a badly shot photo of two oddballs with five gawky looking kids, but seeing the family for the first time with his own two eyes, Adam felt like the nebulous idea of getting to know his step-cousins even more exciting than he had thought at first.

_They aren't really my cousins by blood_ , Adam reassured himself. _And I know nothing about them. They're like strangers to me, we're hardly related. At all._

That's what he told himself when he surreptitiously checked out Mark, the following evening (a Tuesday night), when everyone was seated about the living room trying to get some group study on. He had come out to get a drink from the fridge and, passing by the living room, had paused at the sight of Mark and Tom's heads bent with Ben's over some textbook. Tom was laughing at something Mark was saying – and Ben was staring at his two older brothers with exasperation. As he passed on, Adam looked up to find William eyeing him a little calculatingly. Adam, never great at dissembling, blushed a rough red.

“So you bat for the home team, huh,” William grinned, finding a glass for Adam as he hunted about, orange juice carton in hand.  
“Well, uh, that is...” Adam shrugged. “Maybe? Both are cool with me.”  
“That's nice,” William tilted his head. “And you aren't technically related, so it's fine with me I guess...” He peeked out to eye his boys fondly. “Did anyone catch your eye?”  
“Well, Mark – he seems to be really nice and quiet and –“  
“He is!” William nodded enthusiastically, but keeping his voice hushed. “But, he's already taken, more or less. New neighbour moved in just this summer – and he's all over Mark. Ding-dong, ding-dong~” William's blue eyes danced with merriment.  
“Ahhhh...” Adam smiled. “That's great to hear. I mean, sad for me, 'cause I think he's a great catch.”  
“Well, they are all great catches. Of course, Chris and Matt are still, um, young – but one day they'll get out and about too, I suppose. They already do, in a way. They think I don't know, bless their hearts,” William winked at Adam companionably. “But then, that's the way it is with kids and parents.”  
“I guess...” Adam replied cautiously, pouring himself the drink finally and stashing away the orange juice carton.  
“Now, Tom, on the other hand,” William said. “And Ben. Both of them are free – although I'm afraid you'd have to fight for attention with Ben. He gets into moods where he just wants to read or have fun or whatever... but Tom is more mature by miles.”  
“Tom, huh,” Adam leaned against the door and eyed the lean young man – the curls now tamed and combed back, the laughing blue eyes, the vivacity of his smile and classical lines of his face. “He's smart too, I heard. Uncle Leonard said Tom's taking Double Honours at Cambridge.”  
“He is,” William nodded vigorously, finally fulfilling another dream of his to match-make successfully yet again. He began to plan a double-wedding in his head. Mark to a multi-millionaire and Tom to an almost-millionaire. Yes. It could work.  
“Maybe I'll chat with him and see how it goes,” Adam suggested with a small smile.  
“You should!” William grinned up at the taller man. “Go get'em, cowboy!”

_Yes_ , Adam thought. _An odd family – but nice._

-0-0-0-

A few days later, after school, the boys went down to the Horowitz Sports Bar to celebrate Hump Day. Not that many of their neighbours celebrated it – but William had instilled in them enough awareness of North American ideas that any chance to watch football and knock back a cooler or two seemed nice halfway through the weekend. Of course, Leonard and William encouraged Adam to go along as well. Leonard, because he wanted the peace and quiet of his study back (when Adam wasn't studying or at the seminar, he always tried to talk to Uncle Leonard, particularly about commercial law and the Odinsons); William, because this would be a perfect opportunity for Tom to get to know Adam outside the house. Perhaps the both of them would loose some of their shyness away from the pressure of parental supervision.

That was the idea. 

Within half an hour, the entire group moved down the road, deciding to walk it to the Sports Bar, since it wasn't raining, for the first time in days, and because it wasn't too cool yet. Of course, there was a lot of civil chatting – but then the Sports Bar came up and Chris and Matt were more than happy to ditch their boring not-really-cousin and go hang out with their schoolmates all who were either on the football, the rugby or the cricket team. Several coaches were milling about, assistants and parents trying to ensure that no real alcohol got into the paws of the youths. 

That evening, everyone was in a real uproar because apparently a “kick-ass” football assistant coach from America's Harvard University had finally arrived for a yearly university sports exchange – a certain Chris Evans. Of course, Chris and Matt were suddenly swallowed up by the crowd surrounding the tall, handsome-looking fellow. He was older – somewhere between Ben and Tom's age – but he was rather kind, not looking down on the younger players and showing a kind of commonsense and maturity which Tom thought was great to see.

Not only was Chris E handsome and engaging, but he could hold a real conversation with his elders. More than a few coach assistants and parents commented on the fact that he seemed more mature and thoughtful than most boys his age. After half an hour, several of the boys dragged their new friend outside to see how different his footwork was from theirs. Tom and a few parents accompanied them outdoors to make sure none were stupid enough to run out onto the road or something. Keeping it in the parking lot would be tough enough. Mark and Tom stood by the road to field any wild balls – and it was there that they bumped into Downey and Loki. Rather, the two bumped into them.

Happy greetings were exchanged – between Downey and Mark. The soccer players all paused to eye the newcomers. Then paused again at the sight of Loki standing by Tom. Tom was just about to ask Loki if he was fond of football when he noticed a rather tense expression cross his face, which rapidly grew to intense dislike, perhaps even loathing. Following Loki's line of sight, Tom couldn't help but realize that Loki was glaring at the new Chris.

While part of him was glad that Loki's usual disdain wasn't directed toward him, Tom didn't like the fact that Loki was freaking out some guy just because. _Maybe there's a history there_ , Tom sighed. _Who knows with Loki? But I mean, what does some American kid have to do with a guy like Loki? Has he even been to America?_

Chris E, looking up and noticing Loki and Tom standing there, paused. His face went a little pale and his foot slipped off the ball just a little – and Matt was able to steal it – and the moment was gone, as Chris E focused once again on the game. Then Downey and Loki were moving on, leaving a very confused Tom behind.

The rest of the evening was well-spent – and after talking with Chris Evans for a few minutes, Tom realized that he might be able to find yet another friend this year. The man seemed to be quite a bit of fun and treated his brothers well, more than capable of handling and redirecting the crazy energies which ran through Chris and Matt at times. On the way home, Tom mused at what he had seen.

That night, as the two of them crawled into bed, Tom turned to Mark and said, “Mark, you wouldn't guess what I saw.”  
“What?”  
“Loki – apparently wanting to tear out Chris's guts.”  
“Chris? What did he do? Did Matt put him up to something?”  
“No – what – no,” Tom laughed then. “Sorry. No. Besides when does Matt put Chris up to something? Hardly ever. No, I meant Chris E.”  
“The new assistant coach? What did he do?”  
“Nothing. Just was playing with the kids – and there was Loki, looking like he wanted to slay the poor man.”  
“You must be seeing things.”  
“No, I'm not joking, Mark. It was for real.”  
“Hm, well, there must've been a reason for it,” Mark shook his head. “Loki is crazy – but not that crazy.”

Tom thought about how Loki never seemed to stop watching him... 

“I don't know, Mark.”

Nothing more was said of it, either going or at home. William was beside himself with joy at the news of a sexy new assistant coach to gawk at while he went to cheer on his boys at their football game. Tom and Mark rolled their eyes. Then, Adam had to go and congratulate William and Leonard on their relatives' success at running such a homely sports pub. Apparently, everyone had been invited there for dinner and another sports night on the following Friday night. William, upon finding out that the new Chris Evans had also been invited, said all the boys needed to go. Leonard sighed. As if Chris and Matt needed encouragement to party. Adam, upon finding out that Tom was also going, said he would be glad to join their party as well. It sounded like a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha! Mr. Wickham has showed up. Let the games begin!
> 
> Let me know what you think!   
> Comments and concrit are appreciated!


	16. Chris Evan's Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we begin with the Wickham (Chris E) plotline. Dun dun dun. Hope this sounds interesting - and there's a hint of Loki backstory here... sort of...

Chapter 16  
Chris Evan's Story

Due to previous commitments – Leonard having some student profiles to assess, Wiliam already promised to Bilston-Briggs's usual weekend beer and poker night – the parents did not accompany their young brood to the Horowitz Friday night party. Adam was more than happy to pursue a chance to chat with Tom and his other interesting not-relatives. The boys were looking forward to a fun night of sports watching, board games, Mrs. Horowitz's blintzes and a possible chance to remeet the new assistant coach, Chris Evans from America.

On arrival, the Nimoy-Shatner-Baldwin party were even more pumped upon discovering that their in-laws had also invited a couple coaches, their assistants, a few choice parents and their teenage sons – bringing the total of the party to a jolly group of about twenty-five to thirty, which definitely crowded out the small flat which ran above the pub. 

Adam was immediately taken under Mrs. Horowitz's wing, stuffed full of blintzes and cheap beer as he extended his usual compliments to her fine home. Eventually, references to the Odinson's English home cropped up. Mr. Horowitz, a serious follow of international commerce and politics, was beside himself with joy to not only find a kindred spirit who understood the joys of international commerce but also had been hired by Viking Securities Limited itself – and invited to a party hosted by the mysterious man Odinson himself. Falling on the neck of his not-quite-in-law, figuratively speaking, Mr. Horowitz wept (even more metaphorical) tears of joy while Mrs. Horowitz looked on fondly, making a mental note to call all of her friends when this was over to tell them about her distinguished distant relative who had also complimented her home. 

Of course, the Nimoy-Shatners looked upon this whole exchange with a variety of feelings and suitable reactions, ranging from “there he goes again!” (Chris and Matt) to interest (Ben) to amusement (the eldest two). 

However, when Chris E (as he was now called) finally arrived, everything got ten times more exciting. _He is easily head and shoulders above the rest of the guests_ , Tom thought privately, _in both looks and conversation and thought_. He had a feeling the rest of the room agreed.

After saying general hellos to everyone, Chris E plunked himself down by Tom on the sofa (which made many people jealous, but Tom was OK with that), accepting a beer from Mrs. Horowitz with a grateful 'Thank you!'.

“Ahhhh,” he said after his first sip. “That sure hits the spot... Although.... on a night like this, tea would almost be more welcomed.”  
“It is pretty cool, isn't it?” Tom agreed.  
“Started to rain again, too. Isn't that what you guys drink at times like these – like when it's all misty, foggy, rainy... you know, tea and crumpets?”  
“Ehehehehe,” Tom chuckled, scratching his nose and looking down at the cup of tea in his hand which he had exchanged a beer for. “Caught me in the act. I'm stereotypical, I guess.” 

He chuckled a little more, deprecatingly; however, Tom's mind was racing a mile a minute. _I can't believe I'm talking about the weather with this guy – and tea. How lame am I? And why aren't I bored out of my skull? He must have some kind of ability – to make any topic interesting..._

Chris E shrugged. “Hey, tea is cool.”  
“I thought Americans preferred coffee –“  
“Now that's a stereotype,” laughed Chris E heartily. “I mean, it is a bit true... but not straight across the board. Oh hey, you wanna join one of the board games? I think they're pulling some out –“  
“Oh, no, I'm OK,” Tom said. “You go ahead though.”  
“Eh,” Chris E flapped a hand, tiredly. “I'll sit and cheer on the sidelines as well. After today, my brain feels a bit mushy.”

Just as Tom was going to asked what had happened, Chris came up, looking excited.

“Tom, Chris, you guys wanna join us at Monopoly?”  
“Oh wow. You're playing Monopoly?” Chris E asked. “That's a pretty popular American game!”  
“I know,” Chris laughed. “But our Dad is from Canada, so he's making sure we know all the popular games over there.”  
“Really?”  
“Yeah. He sounds American – but he's not – and he isn't too fond of being mistaken for one – which isn't fair to us, don't you think?”  
“Of course,” Chris E smiled up at the vivacious blonde, catching the young boy's easily shared enthusiasm. “We're neighbours after all. A bit of mixing and sharing is bound to happen."  
“Don't say that to Dad though,” Chris smirked. “He'll slay you.”  
“Yeah, he would,” Tom nodded ruefully. “Even though he's acted quite a bit in Hollywood and for American TV, he has his small moments of Canadian pride. They are rare – but they are there.”  
“Father says it comes and goes,” Chris snorted, “and that we should ignore it, since it's like passing wind.”  
“Chris!” Tom blushed red as he admonished his younger brother. “Sorry...”  
“No, no,” Chris E said indulgently. “It's OK. What does you Mom think? Is she British?”  
“Oh,” Chris laughed then and shrugged. “My mom was Australian, I think. Tom's parents were English as were Ben's and Matt's. Mark came from America – but he's cool.”  
“Adopted? All of you?” Chris E said, whistling, obviously impressed. “Your parents must really love kids.”  
“I think they love an audience,” Tom said ruefully.  
“Same difference,” Chris E smiled and winked at Tom. “So, how old are your Mom and Dad?”  
“Oh. We have two dads,” Chris replied disarmingly. “They're gay. Oh gosh. They're starting! Come watch me crush them.”

With a sigh, Tom obeyed and relocated to the smaller couch closer to the table. Chris E followed, his face wrinkled with thought. 

“So...” he said, eyes not moving from the players surrounding the table. “Your dads are, uh, gay.”  
“Yeah,” Tom replied quietly and warily.  
“Huh.”  
“Freaking you out a bit?”  
“Oh, no, no, no,” laughed Chris. “It's not so uncommon in America after all. So, um, anyone of you guys following in your dad's footsteps?”  
“Hm. I guess...”  
“Mark is,” Chris interrupted Tom, turning slightly to eye Chris E. “He's going to start dating Downey soon.”  
“Really.”  
“No, not really,” Tom sighed. “It's too early to say. But Mark has shown interest in guys. Before. Most of us are pretty open, I think. Ben is the only one who hasn't shown much interest either way before...”  
“Asexual?”  
“Dunno. He probably just needs to find the right one. Or a late bloomer.”  
“Well, there's no need to rush,” Chris E said. “What's important is that you're ready when the right one comes along.”  
“Exactly,” Tom said. “Well, Matt dated a girl last year. Karen from down the street. Hm – broke up mutually and she's seeing Arthur now.” Tom shook his head. “Dad cracked a joke about a threesome once – which is, well, worrying because Matt will do stupid things at the slightest suggestion.”  
“Hahaha,” Chris E laughed. “Boys are prone to that. So, your elder brother, um, Mark is seeing a guy?”  
“Yeah. Downey. Just moved into the neighbourhood with some friends for the rest of his school years at Cambridge, I guess,” Tom rubbed his chin in thought. “You saw them the other day, you know – when Loki was glaring at you.”  
“Oh. Oh. I see,” Chris E shifted uneasily on the sofa and his eyes met Tom's. “So they've been here since...”  
“Since August or so,” Tom said. “Only two months or so ago.”  
“Ahhh...”  
“Loki seems posh,” Tom said. “Super upper crusty or royalty or something.”  
“Well, yeah,” Chris E said. “He is the partial-heir to an estate worth several billions. I should know.”  
“Really?” Tom frowned. “No offence but –“  
“None taken,” Chris E laughed. “I know his family.” He paused. “Or rather, knew, as you can guess from his death glare,” Chris sighed. “Do you hang out with him much?”  
“Loki? Good heavens, no,” Tom chuckled. “I had the bad luck of sharing a house with him for four days or so. Never again. The man's an ass.”  
“Well... I'm biased,” Chris E said. “You know, because of our history together – but I bet that's not an opinion you'd share with just anyone.”  
“Uhhhh... yeah, I think I would,” Tom disagreed. “Everyone, and I mean, everyone dislikes him. Or at least detests him. Especially in this part of town.”  
“Huh,” Chris E blinked. “that's strange. Normally he scares the shit out of you – and you end up, you know, 'to hear is to obey' – or he charms your pants of. Literally.”  
“Ha. Not happening here. Nope.”  
“He's here for the school year, too?” asked Chris E, curiously. “Like, he's actually attending classes at Cambridge?”  
“Yes,” Tom grinned. “Hard to believe, but the sonofa is even going to class – and excelling.”  
“He would.”  
“I hope this won't make you go home earlier than you planned or something inconvenient,” Tom said, brow wrinkling with concern.  
“Me? Oh. I'm not going anywhere. Hell no. The bastard can't scare the shit out of me.” Chris shook his head firmly. “No. He'll have to back off. I mean, it sucks he's here – since you can see that he hates my guts – but that's probably because Mr. Odinson likes me more than him. Y'see, the little shit is adopted, so he's got separation issues or something like that 'cause he's super possessive. Like jealous. All the time. He ever mention his older brother? No. Don't mention Thor. Trust me.” Tom nodded slowly and encouragingly as Chris went on. “Anyways, he's got a father complex so huge... it's, well, huge ass – and when my dad died – he was Mr. Odinson's head of security on his ranch back in New Mexico... right, when Dad died, Mr. Odinson took me under his wing. Thor told me he has this thing for orphaned kids. Anyways, I don't wanna cause trouble for Mr. Odinson, so I try to ignore Loki.”

Tom felt like there was a larger story behind Chris's account – but decided to let it be, having a feeling that it would come in time if he didn't force the issue. So, the conversation turned to Chris, Matt's and Ben's school. How the parents weren't so bad. How keen the students were. What level the teams were at and so on. 

“Of course, it's a great place to be – especially as a job for a physical person like myself,” Chris E said. “I mean, England's such a great place, you know, tons of awesome folks, like you guys.”  
“You're too kind,” Tom mumbled, dipping his head with a slight blush rising on his cheeks.  
“Just saying the truth, friend,” Chris E's hand suddenly edged around the back of the sofa, and Tom allowed himself to ease back a bit, feeling just a little closer to the interesting new friend he had found that day. “And the you know, the kids are good-hearted – and on nice days, there's nothing better than running on a nicely kept field with a ball between your feet. I mean, sure it wasn't my first choice for career. I had really hoped to work in the force or in security like my dad – but, thanks to Loki, it didn't really work out.”  
“No kidding,” Tom whispered, amazed.  
“No joke. Don't cross the guy. Tom, he's a little... intense.”

Tom remembered Loki's green gaze which had threatened to swallow him whole. He gulped.

“Yeah. I gathered that too,” Tom shivered. “Thanks to his family connections and the social power they wield, he could probably off me and dump my body in an unmarked grave and no one'd ask questions.”  
“That's a bit... extreme,” Chris E chuckled. “But he does imbue the Odinson family with a slight Mafia vibe. Concrete boots and all. Anyways, Mr. Odinson was cool with me going into the force. Practically promised me my dad's old spot when I got experience under my belt.”  
“And?”  
“Well, Loki didn't like it – at all. So he lied – he's pretty good at that – and before I knew it, the college booted me out. Well, this all happened when Mr. Odinson was out of the country, of course. He's gone for, like, super long periods of time. And often off the grid, and stuff... We called those times “Loki's Reign of Terror” or “The Usurption”. 

The two of them laughed together at that.

“So, right,” Chris E managed to get his breath back. “Mr. Odinson comes back – but it's just too forgone by that point. Reputations is crucial, you know?” Chris E sighed. “But Mr. Odinson's a champ and he sent me off to Harvard –“  
“Wow.”  
“Yeah. He's like a dad to me – and Loki hasn't ruined Harvard yet – not quite anyways. Tried to get me booted last year. Failed.”  
“Let me guess,” Tom said sardonically. “His dad was out of town.”  
“Yep. Standard Loki strategy. This time, sorta failed – but he did cause me some grief – and I ended up having to smooth over a lot of feathers.”  
“But Loki lost.”  
“More or less. He took off to England – back to England since it's his preferred lair. And took Hal with him. He's got Hal stashed somewhere, I suppose.”  
“This is horrible,” Tom's blue eyes filled with righteous anger. “Why hasn't anyone said anything? He's basically a bully!”  
“Hm. Yes. I guess. But I'm not allowing myself to be bullied. The thing is – he's the one with all the moolah.”  
“Makes sense,” Tom sighed. “But that's a shame really. Money shouldn't allow you to get away with shit like that... and all because he's jealous!”  
“More or less.”  
“I knew he was slightly, you know, mental – or intense or whatever. Priggish, for sure. A bit of an ass... but this is like – a whole new level of evil!” Tom blinked. Then remembered Loki's words. “Although he did admit to having a temper and being resentful...”  
“Well – that's for you to say,” Chris E said. “Not me. I'm biased, so you know... whatever.”  
“Of course you're biased!” Tom's blue eyes sparked. “After what he did to you! Anyone can see that you're the victim here. It's crazy. Well, maybe his jealousy has some strange root somewhere in his personality. Something from his original parents...”  
“If you mean his pride,” Chris nodded, “then it's a problem. Pride is his middle name. After Deceiver.”  
“That's out of control, man. Nothing good can come out of that...”  
“Well. Pride has its uses.... You know, because of his family pride, he doesn't bring disgrace by doing obviously criminal acts. He fakes nicety. Like I said before, he can charm your pants off – if he wants to. And his sense of duty to his brothers is kinda – well, it's strong, let's say.”  
“You mentioned Thor and Hal. What're they like?”  
“I met Thor only two or three times, since he usually lives somewhere in the north part of Europe or something like that. Great guy – huge – like... built. It's crazy. And so open, generous, simple-hearted. Loki and he are like night and day.”  
“Loki being night, obviously.”  
“Obviously,” Chris's forehead wrinkled. “And Hal,” he sighed sadly. “I grew up with him. He was younger than I, his age is similar to your youngest brother, Chris.”  
“Wow. Young.”  
“Yeah. And Hal's... bright, energetic, out-going and always up for some fun... but after the whole cop and then the college fiasco, Hal's gotten more and more like Loki.”  
“Probably hanging out too much with his older brother,” Tom guessed. “His dad's away all the time, Thor's not there. You're kicked out. Who else does he have, poor kid?”  
“Hm. Yeah. Basically. Sigyn sometimes is there – but she can hardly stand up to Loki either. Being a poor relation and maybe something else too... hard to say there...”  
“Ah... yes, understandable...”

Tom's eyes wandered around the room. A game of poker was in full swing as well as Risk, Settlers and Monopoly. Everyone was laughing and chattering. It seemed unreal – that somewhere out in this amazing world, there was a man who went about destroying people's dreams with impunity. 

“I still can't see how Downey would hang out with Loki. Downey is just awesome,” Tom could hardly believe it. “I mean, he's really a great guy: loves a laugh, smart, intelligent, on the ball and very kind-hearted. Do you know him?”  
“No....”  
“Well, he must not know what Loki is really like.”  
“Probably not. I've said it before – Loki is charming. I mean it, really, really charming. If he thinks the situation needs his delicate touch or something,” Chris E assumed a posh pose, and Tom's 'ehehehe' brought another smile to Chris's face. “Or if he needs to get his way or if he is interested in a person – he goes all out. Especially with people like him – or before his father.”

At the table just beyond, Tom and Chris, at the sound of a rising cry (someone had just won the jackpot), turned and saw that Mrs. Horowitz looked very pleased with herself. Adam, at her right, was complimenting her skill, saying how it reminded him of Mr. Holsteen, one of the senior partners at Viking Securities. Apparently the man was a whizz at cards.

“He's a relative of yours?” asked Chris E, curiously.  
“Uhhhh...” Tom tilted his head, his fingers trailing down his neck absently. “Kind of. He's my dad's... younger brother's... step-son? Not related by blood.”  
“Confusing.”  
“Yeah, you can say that again.”  
“And he works for Viking Securities?”  
“Yeah. Weird, huh.”  
“Weird,” Chris E agreed. “He works for the Odinsons and that means for Loki too – indirectly.”  
“When you put it like that,” Tom eyed his step-cousin-in-law with new eyes as the information began to fit in with what he had heard Adam and his father and the news had to say about the mysterious family. “It's kinda...”  
“So he's met the family yet?”  
“Not Loki,” chuckled Tom. “I hope he doesn't. He might try to kiss the great one's hand or something. Well, he met Mr. Odinson himself just this past week – and he just keeps going on and on about it. I think he's got a bit of a bromance going for Odinson or something.”  
“Wow. Crazy.”  
“He met the girl called Sigyn as well.”  
“Ah. Right. Yes. Sigyn is some distant relative, they said. Hard to keep track of - but she's not like they are, born to almost-royalty, but Odin took her in, maybe with an eye to hitching her to one of his kids.”  
“Odinson sure likes to pick people up.”  
“Yeah, he's a great old guy,” Chris nodded. “Really, the best. So he's in London? I'm surprised that Loki hasn't gone down to see him.”  
“Hmmmm...” Tom remembered Loki and the evening where he had avoided all those calls. “Maybe they're having a fight. Or something.”  
“Not the first time,” Chris said. “Thor once told me that his brother really hated their family – went through a whole period where he pretended they weren't related. Even though they'd grown up together and everything.”  
“Wow,” Tom's blue eyes widened. “That's... cold.”  
“So, yeah, I wouldn't be surprised that if Mr. Odinson is at odds with Loki, he'd ignore his dad.”  
“Huh.” 

And so the evening passed. Everyone finished their games. Chris had not won at Monopoly as he had promised, but Chris E had cheered the boy up with a pat on his back and a promise to play some football with him on Sunday. Thereafter, Chris couldn't stop talking about how the game had gone – and what houses he'd bought and how he had crushed Arthur, at least (which made Matt sad) and how he would win next time et cetera ad nauseum. Adam had come away from the poker table with the loss of a few pounds – but he remained light-hearted, mostly because Mr. Horowitz seemed to really be interested in his work and Mrs. Horowitz had packed him some left-over blintzes. 

All the way home, the conversation focused on the evening, allowing Tom to trail behind his brothers and step-cousin, the better to mull over what had been told him about a certain venomous neighbour. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T GO THERE TOM! *ahem*
> 
> Some of you might still be going - Hal? 
> 
> Hal is Prince Henry/Henry V from Tom Hiddleston's "The Hollow Crown" performance. 
> 
> You might still be, like, WTF. Fear not, it'll be explained. Sorta. >> All in good time (ie. later on). :)


	17. It Was All Greek To Me – But Now... Not So Much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What does Tom realize? *ominous music*

Chapter 17  
It Was All Greek To Me – But Now... Not So Much

Fall was now ending in earnest, the grey sky lowering overhead almost constantly – the chill in the air crept in and stayed, entering the bones and curling in the corners of houses. Wind rushed down alleys and fog, when it crept in, often came to stay. Since his chat with Chris, Tom had been kept busy with a few assignments looming and final essays now needing careful preparation. There would be exams as well. All of these he tackled with enthusiasm (and some trepidation). 

Tom enjoyed school. There was something about the energy of class, the sharing of ideas and the activity on campus which ran in his blood, filling him with excitement. Already, his classics department were in cahoots with the acting coaches – excited to have a chance at putting on an all-Greek play with their students and faculty.

Although many couldn't understand it, Tom, who had already started his Greek and Latin studies the year before, was excited about the chance to practice his Greek and his acting skills out on stage. It wasn't often one could perform in what was practically a dead language. Leonard, watching this whole affair unfold, felt incredibly blessed to have a child so talented as Tom. _If only_ , he thought, _the others could appreciate it for what it is – but the chances of anyone else, besides William and I, understanding what Tom is really doing are really small._

 _Not that the others are slouches either_ , Leonard corrected himself dutifully, as he watched Mark and Downey collaborate over some formula on their dining room table. 

 

-0-0-0-

At any rate, it was a few weeks before Tom and Mark found a chance to talk – one late night, laying in their beds – and not falling immediately to sleep as they'd been wont to do for several days in a row now.

Of course, for a good half hour, Mark had to give a small Downey love-rant, which Tom endured stoically. That was part and parcel of being a brother, he figured – and wondered if one day he would find someone to rant about as earnestly as Mark did about Robert Downey. After extolling the virtues of his neighbour, Mark was willing to move onto other news – and listen with rising disbelief as Tom recounted Chris's words.

“I can't believe it,” Mark said for the third time, turning to sit up. “This is for real?”  
“Apparently.”  
“Downey's best friend is such a dick?” Mark sighed. “I can't believe it... but Chris is such a nice guy. He can't be lying. I don't know what to think.”  
“I know what to think,” Tom said. “It looks obvious to me.”  
“Well, it's just that maybe both sides are, you know, confused. There's a mistake or something. Maybe there's some kind of extenuating circumstance which forced them to misunderstand or hate each other.”  
“Mark, if you had your way, no one would be found guilty of anything,” Tom had to laugh then. “That's impossible.”  
“Well, it might be a pipe dream,” Mark ruffled his hair pensively. “But Loki's behaviour just seems so extreme in that story – and, well, Martin and Downey wouldn't hang about someone like that.”  
“Hm. I could see Downey being taken for a ride,” Tom said. “Apparently, Loki's a charmer. It's just that I've – well, we have all seen Loki's behaviour – a total asshole. C'mon. We could ask Loki the truth – but actions speak louder than words in my book.”  
“I just don't know what to think,” repeated Mark.  
“I do.”  
“Well,” Mark laid back down with a frown. “If it came out, there'd be a shit storm of all time and Downey would be crushed and humiliated.”  
“True,” Tom agreed. “But then, we aren't gossipers. No need to blab it about, I should think.”  
“Hm. It bears thinking on,” Mark replied drowsily. “Just don't tell Dad. Might as well tell the BBC.”

Tom imagined William's reaction to Chris E's story (particularly since the older man had taken a particular liking to the young American man) – going toe to toe with Loki – Tom shuddered.

“That goes without saying.”  
  


-0-0-0-

It was late November when everyone got a text, email (or in a few cases, an actual letter) of invitation to the Downey Christmas House Party. Details included proclaimed that there would be catered food, drinks, a football game should the weather permit, a sports game room, a dance and a DJ. Needless to say, this announcement left everyone beside themselves with excitement. With a capital E.

Apparently this would be the “block party” (as William called it) of the century. Not everyone was pumped about this (particularly the older residents), but most were filled with anticipation. No one was as excited as the Nimoy-Shatner household. Leonard was looking forward to spending some time with fellow faculty members – as well as some of Tom's more intelligent friends. William was looking forward to enjoying the neighbourhood's fine selection of men. After all, the party promised the dream of all gay men – a reverse harem. Plus, there would be the rest of the neighbourhood there – a chance for him to brag and show off his fine sons. And gossip. And talk about the good ol' days acting on _Star Trek_.

Mark couldn't wait either. Probably because he knew that most of his night would be taken up with Downey – slow dancing or some such thing. Although he never admitted his plans out loud because William would go crazy about the need for Mark to dirty dance Downey to the bedroom. His Dad had no shame. Really....

Tom was more pumped about hanging with his fellow students as well as a few of his cooler profs. Martin had proved to be a fellow lover of ancient art forms and there were the professors Firth and Grant to chat with. _And Zach of course. Rickman, too_. _Although_ , he realized, _that will mean no impersonations will be allowed_. Tom wasn't entirely certain if Rickman would be amused by Tom and Ben's legendary abilities to imitate his insouciant drawl. 

And there was dancing with Chris E to look forward to. A night of watching Loki in his natural environment – with eagle eyes. 

_Oh yes_ , Tom thought. _It'll be a blast_.

Chris and Matt were beside themselves as well. Chris E had promised to dance with them too. Matt was also excited because Arthur and Karen had also been invited – and were bringing a mysterious friend along. They said that Matt had to absolutely meet the man. Matt couldn't wait, which resulted in more ridiculousness than usual. Chris was no better – an annoying ball of high spirits until the day of. 

Even Ben got caught up in the party animal spirit, casting aside his books and cracking jokes. Tom wondered for a few seconds if Ben had finally found someone to crush on. It would explain Ben's increasing expressed interest to take on the dance floor. _Yet another thing to look forward to_ , Tom mused.

“So, will you be coming too?” Tom asked his not-cousin Adam one evening when the family fell to discussing the long-awaited party now finally announced. “I know you've been busy.”  
“Oh,” Adam smiled at Tom. “I'm looking forward to it. I mean, yes, I'm not here to party it up and all – but you know how it goes: all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”  
“Right... yes... That's true.”  
“And,” Adam went on. “It's not like it's a rave or some kind of a drug scene. They're all good fellows – and although I've not met all of them, I've heard that that group of guys are quite mature for their ages. Besides – Downey is a well-connected name back in the States. Social networking is an important cornerstone for all businesses.”  
“I see,” Tom said, trying to suppress a laugh over Adam's speech. Important cornerstone, he snorted to himself. What a guy. “Mr. Horowitz will be there too I think. And Irons. So you won't be bored with the more frivolous nature of parties – you know, dancing and stuff.”  
“Oh,” Adam grinned then, showing a lot of fine white teeth which threatened to blind Tom. His brown eyes suddenly warmed as they met Tom's. “I love dancing. In fact, I'm planning on dancing with all of you guys at least once. Well, with you, Tom, I'd like to dance with you a couple times. Ever since I heard about your dancing skills, I've looked forward to meeting you on the dance floor.”  
“Uhhhh....” Tom smiled awkwardly as he realized with horror that Adam wasn't joking. “You may regret that – I call myself prancer and loon for a reason.”  
“You're so humble, Tom,” Adam smiled. “I'm sure no one can light a candle to your –“  
“Ummmm... I've gotta... go...” Tom looked at his watch, glanced around the table, noticed Chris snorting into his drink (at him, the bastard), pretended to look repentant as he prepared to flee the table. “I just realized I've got some more work to get through tonight. Also a conference with Jameson on this one part – See you later, guys!”

Leonard and William glanced at Mark, eyebrows raised. Mark shrugged. Chris and Matt whispered and laughed together. Adam went back to finishing up his plate. 

Meanwhile, upstairs, Tom returned to the proposal he was writing for his acting seminar professor on how he would approach his role. He had really needed to discuss the role with Jameson as well – and he made sure that everyone heard him talking with his classmate about Electra and the Freudian principles found therein. It was important for him to look busy.

 _It's important for me to be busy_ , he sighed as he considered Adam's surprising and disconcerting and surprisingly disconcerting offer. _Really, Tom_ , he berated himself. _It's not like you could only dance with Chris E and Zach and stuff. Besides, Adam's not so bad_. The curly haired blonde groaned as he imagined his not-cousin chat his ear off about the Exchange as they slow danced to Caribbean Blue. 

_Who are you kidding?_  
  


-0-0-0-

As time ticked onward, as Tom emerged from his studies, as he increasingly looked forward to (and dreaded) the Downey Christmas House Party, as he considered Adam's words and the warmth in his eyes as he had discussed dancing with Tom, Tom began to feel something awful... awkwardly awful... form in his mind.

His not-really-cousin-in-law Adam was kinda into him.  
 _Not kinda._  
 _In a big way._

Adam Baldwin fancied him. Tom was being considered as a viable mate and partner in Adam's glorious future as combined heir of the Nimoy and Baldwin estates.

Adam had the hots for Tom.

 _Oh._  
Ohhhh....  
Oh shit.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Memories crowded in, flooded into Tom's mind, falling into place like a devastating, yet hilarious, puzzle finally revealed: Adam holding the door open for him, Adam bringing him a beer when he was busy scribbling away on his proposal or essays or translation work, Adam watching him (but with less intensity than Loki, so it hadn't raised alarms), Adam's compliments which Tom had hitherto fielded gracefully. At Adam's fulsome praise, Tom had idly wondered if he really was that awesome. _Had someone hired me a Johnny_ , he had wondered at one point.

Now it all made sense.

“Tom, looking great today!”  
“I swear, Tom, you're absolutely brilliant! How's my Brit-speak coming along?”  
“It's awesome to see how dedicated Tom is to his schoolwork! What a work ethic!”  
“What do you think of this, Tom?”  
“When you graduate, you'll want to base yourself in London, right, Tom?”  
“Tom's got such a great humour. I love a guy who laughs.”  
“Out of ten, I'd mark you as an eight for being a prankster, Tom, really. It's cute.”  
“I always feel young when I talk with you, Tom. You're so... alive.”  
“Those black jeans look, um, really nice, Tom. You should wear them more often.”  
“Has anyone else noticed Tom goes 'ehehehe' when he laughs?”  
“Did anyone tell you how blue your eyes are? They're... really... really... blue.”

It made sickening sense. Puzzle pieces clicking together. _I am such an idiot_ , Tom sighed. _All those times..._

Adam's hand brushing Tom's elbow. Adam's warm hand guiding Tom indoors as he followed the younger man in. Adam coming up behind him and pressing close as he reached around for a still wet mug Tom had been about to dry. Adam's thigh pressing against his own as they sat and watched the evening news with Leonard together. _Adam always sat too close..._

 _How could I have not seen this coming?_ Tom wanted to laugh. And cry. _Maybe I didn't want to see it..._ He sighed – then frowned as something else registered. _Dad._

William had always pushed them together saying things like, “Tom, help Adam find his socks” or “Tom, Adam needs a lift – mind taking him out with you?” or “Adam, why don't you ask Tom about that? He's really good at knowing the meaning of all words in the English language” or “Tom, remember to ask Adam along to the Horowitzes. You know how he loves walking out with you.”

 _Dad_ , Tom began to massage his temples as a headache threatened to overwhelm him. _He's in on it too – probably thinks a chance for Father to get his stuff and a way for me to make a ton of money from my stupid not-cousin. Ugh. He's my cousin. Well. Not my real cousin – but still..._

Tom's blue eyes opened slowly and he contemplated the sheets of papers before him. After a few moments, Tom turned on his current favourite playlist on his smartphone and decided to ignore it. _No need to get upset when Adam hasn't made his move yet_ , he told himself. _Just ignore it – you've got the party and examines to worry over, never mind some would be idiot wanting to get you in the sack or whatever he wants...You can just say no when the time comes._  


With a shrug and a determined shake to his head, Tom focused on the Greek before him. Now this, this made sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha! Poor Tom!   
> And poor confused, kind-hearted Mark!
> 
> Hope you guys are enjoying this!   
> Let me know if you are~  
> Thx~


	18. The Downey Christmas House Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kinda stretching out time here... @.@ Does anyone else notice that?  
> Now... ONWARDS... to my favourite chapter (so far) - and to a ton of Tomki and a new character! @.@

Chapter 18  
The Downey Christmas House Party

When Tom entered Downey’s house on the heels of his parents and Mark, he thanked his lucky stars for being taller than average – the house was seriously packed out. Looking around for Chris E, Tom noticed idly that almost everyone had had the same idea as William and had showed up a good fifteen minutes early. Zach, Arthur, Karen, Irons, Firth, Grant and various others were already there with their spouses, wives, families, parents, etc. In one corner, Mr. Horowitz, Mr. Levi and Irons were chatting – soon joined by Adam, Ben and Martin. Tom supposed that entire group would soon be caught up in some heated debate over Thatcher or the Industrial Revolution or something like that.

Tom’s blue eyes roved around the room. No Chris E. He edged back into the busy hallway. No Chris E. The next room was now packed with the younger guys and kids and their coaches all watching cricket or football on large tellies set up around the room. No Chris E there either. Poked his head into a (so far) empty room which looked like it was to be the future dance floor – judging by the immense cleared off space, the rug being removed and the DJ lounging at one end while starting up some tunes.

No Chris E.

But there was Loki, glaring at Tom – or whatever he was doing with his eyes and face – and Tom nodded back coolly, wondering if Loki had got Downey to snub Chris E somehow. Or ‘lost’ or ‘forgot’ his invitation. 

“Matt, Chris,” Tom edged back into the sports room and hissed at his younger brothers whose eyes were currently glued to a screen. “Chris E isn’t here.”  
“I know,” Matt sighed. “Shitty, huh?”  
“Where’s he at?”  
“Uh… oh –“ Chris turned then. “Didn’t you hear? Arthur told me that Assistant Coach Spock told him that Chris E had some family business or something end air quotes to do.”  
“Ohhh…” Tom said, feeling a little disappointed. 

_Chris E isn’t here – and it’s not Loki’s fault either. Well…_ he amended. _Not obviously Loki’s fault._

“Well…” Arthur turned around, scratching his head nervously. “I think he could’ve got back by train earlier easily enough – but we all know that ‘you know who’ hates his guts – and Chris E doesn’t like making scenes, you know. Not at Downey’s house.”

Karen elbowed Arthur and cocked her head in the direction of the far corner of the room where a dark cloud had descended thanks to the sudden arrival of Loki. Yes. A dark cloud definitely hung about Loki as he surveyed the crowd with scornful eyes.

“Speak of the devil,” Matt mumbled.  
“When did he come in?” Arthur wondered.  
“Uh, after Tom, I think,” another lanky, dark-brown-haired young man said calmly. “And I don’t mean to be rude, but he’s been staring at you for quite some time now.” Tom’s eyebrows rose at how the stranger seemed to know his name. Typical Matt mouthiness, I suppose, he sighed. Although, I should feel more sorry for the stranger. “Do you feel…” Here, the youthful man eyed Tom thoughtfully, his brilliant, young yet oddly old eyes sharply gazing up at the taller man who stood over them. “Safe? Or all right? In need of a doctor? I’m here to help.”  
“Uhhh.. thanks, but I think I can handle this,” Tom sighed. 

_Why are Matt’s friends always so strange?_

“Ignore the idiot,” Arthur shook his head.  
“He does this all the time,” Karen rolled her well made-up eyes and tossed her red hair. “And do not go with him into his blue blox thingy. Dammit, my drink is done. I’m getting another. Want some?”

Here, she turned to Arthur, Matt and the Stranger. _That’s what he’s called_ , Tom hmphed to himself, since no one’s going to introduce him properly.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” Arthur said absently, eyes returning in time to see an amazing goal scored.  
“Sure,” Matt nodded. “Thanks, Karen.”  
“No thanks,” replied the Stranger. “I think there’s something wrong with the drinks.” He flicked a long silver, stick-like piece of technology at his drink. It whirred and clicked open and he nodded, “Yes. Definitely alcoholic. And everyone just ignore me as I scan our friendly local stalker – he’s giving me vibes – and you know me and vibes. We’re like… mates. Yes. Oh – oh, goodness, Tom, you sure you don’t – uh, Tom?”

Tom had already fled. 

-0-0-0-

By then, if Tom had been in a comic Disney film, a small grey cloud would have been hovering above his head, literally raining down on his party. If it had been an anime, the ethereal navy blue lines of gloom would be extending around him – and it worsened at the sight of Loki bearing down on him.

_Can my night get any worse_ , he groaned inwardly as he took in Loki’s sharp, three piece suit and expensive looking scarf. _It’s annoying_ , Tom turned his eyes away not wanting to get caught even vaguely looking at Loki in any kind of a suggestive way… _but he cleans up well… Too bad he’s an ass… It’s a shame, really._

  
-0-0-0-

Loki knew the exact moment Thomas set food in the house. It might have to do with the fact that he had applied runes to the door frame and lintel with a potion he had concocted for just an occasion. Or the fact that he had strategically positioned himself at the top of the front stairs which gave him a chance to look calmly (and coolly) welcoming – as well as to get a clear view of the door. Also, there was his height which allowed him to easily see everything else in the room. On top of that were the mirrors – he had bewitched them a week ago for swift travel, his own resonance and easy viewing of other parts of the house as well as his father’s home. 

So he knew when Thomas arrived and was able to take a few seconds to get his breath back. Thomas had come quite well-dressed. As usual, it wasn’t loud or gaudy or over the top. It was casual, understated – yet… so Thomas. The casual black dress pants he wore clung to his slim hips and thighs – and when the tall blonde turned to help Matt get off a particularly garish coat, Loki allowed himself to linger and appreciate.

There was much to appreciate. Underneath a very stylishly cut, open, iron-grey sweater with a lovely collar which emphasized his long neck, Thomas had chosen some kind of clingy grey top which seemed to sculpt itself to his chest. _That is not playing fair, Thomas_ , Loki snarled a little to himself incoherently. It would be so easy to tear that off him – like paper – to drag him off – whisk him away – _how long would it take for them to miss him?_

While Thomas smiled at Downey and clasped Martin in a friendly way on the back, drawing the shorter man in for a sideways hug, Loki’s eyes sharpened with suspicion. _Did Martin’s hand just slip up under Thomas’s iron-grey sweater?_

He and Martin were going to have to have words…

Then, Thomas pulled away, blue eyes sparkling as he slipped into the main living room, slender hand already rising to his long neck – 

Loki fled to the empty room set aside for dancing and allowed himself some quiet, trying not to give in and kidnap that irresistible, distracting mortal – 

And tear that shirt off like it was nothing but tissue and worship the lightly tanned skin beneath, pay homage to the sleek lines of neck muscles, gracefully arching back in pleasure… and there would be pleasure. And pain. So delicious. Yes, he would pull that head back, burying his hands in those lively curls, let his hands claim and tease and pinch. Pin those thin lips below his own, burying the sounds of rising passion and make love to the mortal, gently at first – then take him fast and hard until all expression and communication was nothing but incomprehensible noise more fitted to animals – take away that clever tongue and silence it with passion – 

_Wait –_  
Pause.  
Go back.  
Make LOVE.

Loki’s horror continued to rise as he realized exactly what was happening to him. 

_By the Norns_ , he moaned, _my life as an intelligent being is over_. He gloomily stared off into the distance. _This punishment will be the death of the God of Chaos and Lies… I might as well jump out the window._

As Loki stood there, definitely feeling more depressed and disappointed with himself by the minute, the worst possible thing that could happen happened.

His living nightmare aka sex on two legs popped into the dance hall, obviously in search of someone. Judging by the rapid cooling of Thomas’s expression, _not him_. Loki scowled. _It would never be him._

Thomas didn’t say anything, just nodded stiffly before disappearing again – and Loki found himself following Thomas down to the sports room, even though he was more than annoyed and exhausted by the mortal’s limitless enthusiasm for bloodless sport. After chatting with the ten times as annoying younglings, Thomas departed for the main room again, it turned out – to grab a few snacks at the table. Loki eased in close, willing himself to NOT lean in and bury his head in Thomas’s neck.

“Thomas,” he said.  
“Oh,” Thomas replied with all the enthusiasm of a wet feline. He turned and smiled calmly even though they were uncomfortably close – eye to eye, in fact. “Hey. Didn’t… see… you there… Loki.”  
“Really?” Loki replied with a strained smile, reaching around Tom to pick up a small sandwich.

Someone shoved a Tom a little to get to the table and Tom for a moment was uncomfortably mashed up against Loki.

“Uh, sorry,” Tom said, a little breathlessly.  
“No, no,” Loki replied courteously. “It is indeed very crowded in here. Quite a party.”  
“You didn’t think people would come?” Tom asked, trying to keep acidity out of his voice. “Or hoped they wouldn’t?”  
“Well, it would be very greedy of me to –“ hope to have you all to myself, was what Loki very nearly said – but to his combined relief and dismay, Tom realized that Downey was at his elbow.  
“Downey,” Tom smiled sharply. “Lovely party you’ve got going here. Got a feeling some party poopers gate-crashed, however.”  
“Really,” Downey murmured. “They’ll get with the program, I’m sure.” He tugged Mark closer to him and grinned. “Ready to go, Mark?”  
“Yep,” Mark smiled, and let himself be led away.

When Loki turned away from the two of them, eyes narrowed ( _really, if Downey is serious, I’m going to have to talk with him –_ ), he discovered that Tom had flitted off again this time, fetching up by Zach and a few other classmates. Inwardly cursing, Loki wandered off disconsolately – until he decided to double-check on Downey and Mark. This situation was looking suspicious. 

-0-0-0-

As soon as Loki left the room, no doubt in search of other prey to terrorize, Tom sighed with relief and almost immediately, his black cloud of depression lifted. Tom was an easy-going, forgiving kind of guy, willing to let well enough alone. 

_Frankly, I don’t care about Loki_ , Tom thought. _He’s not important in the grand scheme of things, really. But if he’s pestering me all the time… well then..._ With that thought Tom wrenched his thoughts back to the party and let himself forget the bizarre behaviour of Loki.

“You look... stressed,” Zach said. “Loki again?”  
“Yeah, among other things,” Tom said. "But it's OK now, I think."  
“Still following you around?”  
“Kinda.”  
“Creeper.”  
“You'd think he'd have better things to do,” Tom added. “Apparently not.”  
“Apparently not,” Zach echoed. “Adam came?”  
“Oh year,” Tom sighed. “You just reminded me of another reason to – never mind. Trying to stay positive here.”  
“What happened?”  
“Chris E didn't come,” Tom explained. “It's a let down – I was looking forward to hanging with him and dancing and stuff.” He paused. “And as for Adam,” Tom remembered his dad's machinations and not-cousin's advances and tried not to sigh too loudly. “I'm... not going there. I mean look at him – sitting there with your dad and the boring profs discussing some arcane political thing – I mean...” Tom admitted. “I like a good discussion. I love learning and stuff but there's being studious and being... dull.”  
“Well, we can't all be sexy and exciting like you, Tom,” Zach had to point out dryly. “Look at me. I'll be happy if I can settle down with a nice guy – or girl and have a nice computer and tinker about –“  
“If that makes you happy,” Tom eyed his friend with suspicion, “it's OK... I guess. Just... letting your mind get old before its time... that's a damn shame, you know.”

They watched as Adam bumbled about the room, dropping awkward apologies and doubly awkward compliments.

“I can't watch,” groaned Tom, averting his eyes.  
“Uh... Tom...”  
“As if Dad wasn't bad enough...”  
“Tom... hate to say this, but, uh...”  
“Tom.”

Tom's head jerked up and blue eyes rose to meet light brown ones – Adam's was the only family he had to really look up to.

“Oh. Adam.”  
“Just heard that everyone's on the dance floor,” Adam winked at him. “You promised.”  
“Yeah, I did,” Tom suddenly wanted to sink through the floor.  
“You've got such a great memory,” Adam smiled guiding Tom out the room, hand now on his potential mate's back. Tom found he couldn't walk fast enough. Behind him, Zach was coughing lightly. Obviously his traitorous friend found this amusing.

It got worse. As Tom had feared, Adam had no business being on the dance floor. _And here I thought I was a lunatic_ , Tom thought, grooving coolly to music whilst Adam waved his hands about and flung his arms and basically endangered everyone on the floor. Several feet were crushed and three people got elbowed until a slower ballad started up – and Tom suddenly found himself crushed up against Adam, a possessive arm wrapped around his mid-back, effectively pinning the slighter man to Adam's chest.

The law partner obviously didn't know his own strength as he dragged Tom about the floor slowly. On the upside, only Tom's feet were in the danger of being permanently maimed. On the downside, his feet were in danger of being permanently maimed.

“Whoa... Uh... this is... nice and... cozy,” Tom choked out, his nose brushing Adam's cheek. 

It wasn't hard to recognize the look in Adam's eyes and Tom blushed and glanced away.

“I haven't told you how great you look tonight, have I?” Adam breathed hotly into Tom's ear.

Tom tried to find some space between them but Adam's biceps held firm. He whimpered just a little.

“You look, well, I guess you should call a guy gorgeous – but your top and pants are really... wow... you know?”  
“Uh, Adam,” Tom wheezed. “Can't breathe.”

Adam's arms eased up.

“Sorry,” he said. “Mom says I don't know my own strength sometimes.”

Tom stoically killed a wince as Adam trod on his toes for the umpteenth time.

“Really. Huh. Yes. That might be something to consider,” Tom agreed.

_When is this song going to end, dammit?_

Eventually, it did but it took another dance to satisfy Adam. At last, Tom managed to escape to the gentler arms (and feet) of Martin, leaving Zach to the tender mercies of Adam.

“So... how's it going?” asked Martin.  
“Not, uh, bad. Just survived two dances with my cousin so I'm feeling more optimistic than I was two minutes ago. Thanks for the save, Martin.”  
“No problem. Just got in here myself. Was discussing the, uh, Russia arms dealing issue with Horowitz and Ben.”  
“Oh really,” Tom hummed a little to the slow tune they swayed to. “Ben wasn't a bother, was he? He's... well.... a little special...”  
“No, no, he's fine,” Martin grinned. “He's, ah, quite – quite a character. Really lively.”  
“Yes,” Tom sighed, knowing how Ben's studious moments were often punctuated by periods of insanity and foolishness more or less brought on by boredom. In his own way, Ben was more dangerous than Matt or Chris because of his intelligence. “He is at that.”

After his nicer dance with Martin, Tom handed Martin over to Ben with a smile – and then danced another dance with Coach Kirk who chatted with him about how great it was to have some hope for the cup this year. Assistant Coach Spock and Evans were a real help as well. Evans? Great guy – real sport and even though he was so young, Evans had a head on his shoulder.

Tom suddenly felt like the evening wasn’t going to be totally depressing. _The night isn’t over_ , he reminded himself, _and there are tons of other cool guys you can catch up with. Really, Tom, you’re behaving like a ninny._ Just at that moment, one of the said cool guys came up – Zach – and slipped behind him, pulling Tom gently back into his arms. Tom let himself go a little bit more, allowing his mind to descend and ascend with the music, focusing only on Zach’s comfortingly familiar hands on his hips and Coach Kirk’s hands on his neck and curling around his back.

_This is perfect_ , he sighed as _Touched_ by VAST came on. _It’ll be OK._

-0-0-0-

Loki did not like this. Not at all. Not one bit. This was a travesty, a nightmare, this was some mocking vision of Thanos’s making, this was some mind trick of Odin. This was NOT happening. The demigod scowled – and something in his gut twisted. Fury rose as he realized how neatly his hands were tied. He had magic, yes, but no attack magicks – and although Loki had never needed aggressive magic to create Chaos, he knew that if he did cause trouble tonight, Thomas would not be pleased.

Loki ground his teeth some more. _How has it come to this – some mere mortal commanding the God of Mischief (however unconsciously)? How low have I sunk?_ A part of Loki clamoured for Thomas’s blood – but another, increasingly vocal part wanted to bury itself with pleasure inside Thomas’s body… and that side of Loki found itself to be unable to remain angry with the mortal.

Especially when said mortal was swaying on the dance floor to a hypnotic melody – sandwiched lovingly between his close friend and one of the coaches. At some point, Thomas had ditched his sweater – which allowed a sight to behold: grey material which pulled temptingly across a lean, muscled torso and sharp shoulder blades. Loki didn’t need x-ray vision to imagine where Thomas’s nipples slid under the thin fabric – and all that lay between Loki and the stupid mortal’s flesh was the aforementioned flimsy layer of grey cotton, two inconsequential mortals and social convention.

Not for the first time did Loki condemn social convention to Helheim. Not with the way Thomas shifted seductively up against his taller, brown-haired friend – head tipped back on _Zacco’s – Zacharia’s – Zach’s – Did the name matter? It did not_. Thomas’s curls now rested on some idiotic, irreverent mortal who obviously took that beautiful body for granted. _Those should be my hands on those hips and my clone caressing his face – not pawing it like some common coin._

By the time the song ended (an eon by Loki’s estimation, and as a near-immortal god he had already experienced an eon or two, so he’d know), Loki felt more flushed than he had been in a long time – and his pants felt rather uncomfortably tight. 

That was it.  
In the colloquial terms of Downey, he was “screwed”.

With a short curse more commonly heard on Svartalfheim, Loki plunged after Thomas as he stood chattering and laughing with a crowd of his friends in the corner by a small bar which had been set up halfway through the evening. Almost automatically, the crowd parted for him – which amused him and pleased him no end, so in less than a minute, he was before Thomas, trying to look down at the man who stood at equal height to his own. 

“Thomas,” he said a little too abruptly for his taste (but he had to do this before panic or some such unmanly emotion began to kick in). “Dance with me.”  
“Uh – s-s-sure,” Thomas said, obviously confused and flustered.

Loki smiled, shark-like and triumphant, as the realization that his hastily made plan had succeeded. 

Thomas was going to dance with him. Yes.  
  


-0-0-0-

This was NOT happening. He was dreaming. _That’s right. A bad dream._ If he pinched himself or something, he’d wake up. This was some kind of – Thomas blinked a few times and surreptitiously poked himself.  
  
 _Nope. Real._ He had just said ‘yes’ to a dance with Loki.  
 _Loki. The man who hated him. And stalked him. Or something._  
Thomas wondered if he should be legitimately freaked out.  
 _This was not OK._

He had just said ‘yes’ to a dance with Loki.  
 _Loki._ The man now at the other end of the room talking with the DJ – no doubt setting up some torturous song for him to embarrass Tom with. Something he knew that Tom would look like an idiot in.  
 _This was not OK._

“Uh… What did I just do?” Tom whispered aloud, still struggling to understand why of all times it was this moment that his tongue had run off on him.  
“I think you said ‘yes’ to dancing with Loki,” Zach shrugged.  
“Why didn’t you stop me?” he hissed at his friend.  
“Uhhh… What’s so bad about dancing with Loki?”  
“Um, other than the fact he’s a complete nutter and hates my guts? I don’t know, Zach – maybe it’s the fact that he’s a complete nutter and hates my guts!”  
“You’re exaggerating.”  
“Am not – you’ve seen him – it’s like when he’s looking at me, he’s imagining that he’s going to drag me off somewhere and cut my throat and dump my body –“  
“Hey, dude, that’s a little extreme, isn’t it?” Zach sighed. “Give him a chance. You might enjoy yourself out there.”  
“I hope not!” Tom shook his head. “If I do, you can feel free to sign the needed papers and arrange for the white vans to come take me away.”  
“Vans?”  
“Vans?” repeated Zach. “Plural.”  
“I may be in pieces by then.”  
“Okkkaaayyy then….” Zach eased away, leaving Tom to stew at the makeshift bar.

When the opening notes for _Fields of Gold_ came on, Loki reappeared and dragged Tom off by the arm unceremoniously away. For a few seconds, Tom contemplated making a scene and jerking away and stalking off – but then he brushed past Zach who whispered into his ear, “Don’t mess this up – he’s ten times more important than Evans, so don’t let him go”. Tom rolled his eyes. Unlike Zach, Tom was definitely not going to sell his dignity to a guy who just happened to have a billion dollars at his disposal. He had pride, dammit.

Pride also forced him to keep moving. It was as if he was stuck in a dream and his arms and legs weren't working. For a few seconds, Tom shuffled about after Loki, until he shook his head and slapped himself up the head mentally. _Get a grip, Tom_ , he said to himself. _This is just a dance with some guy – you've danced with worse. Like Adam. At least he isn't like Adam._

Loki wasn't Adam. Not at all. Johnny had pointed it out – and Tom couldn't help but notice what the younger man was saying... the two of them definitely did bear some resemblance. Tom wondered if it was OK to think that it was kinda hot. _On the other hand... were they in fact brothers? Unlikely. Although Loki was supposedly adopted, if Chris E was right..._ _just like me. Adopted._ Tom wondered if maybe Loki's family had somehow hurt Loki – to screw him up so badly. Or if his life before adoption had been so horrible as to permanently damage the man. _Just because you're rich doesn't mean you have your shit together_ , Tom thought. _Well, not that it's my business really._

Tom glanced about – and noticed that everyone else on the dance floor was watching the pair out of the corner of their eyes. Quite a few were attempting to surreptitiously take photos (no doubt to mark the epoch of Loki not only on the dance floor, but dancing with someone who wasn't in the same social class as himself). Others, standing to the sides of the room, openly pointed and talked about it. 

Glancing at his rigid dance partner, Tom wondered what had been going through Loki's head when he had asked, well, told him to dance with him. Loki's pale face and set mouth left no clues. There was tension in the back muscles under Tom's hand. The hand holding Tom's was also just a shade tight – and the green eyes blazed with an unreadable fire. _Hatred? Dislike? Scorn? Passion?_ It was hard to tell.

For several bars, they swayed about in silence until Tom couldn't take it anymore. He had to talk – and he had a feeling that Loki didn't want to talk at all. Even better.

“So... Sting. You like him a lot?”  
“I guess,” Loki blinked and for a second, Tom felt a tad bit breathless facing those green eyes so closely, their noses almost touching, almost sharing the same breath.

Tom glanced away. A pause. Then he frowned, “Your turn to say something, Loki. I just commented on the music – you've gotta return the favour somehow. This is how most conversations go, you know, like tennis – back and forth. Hm. Something about how big the dance floor is, all things considering, or how many people are already pairing up for the evening.”  
“I have no issue with saying whatever you wish me to say,” Loki replied, coming out of whatever funk he had been in with a small smile which further unsettled Tom. A happy Loki wasn't always a good thing.  
“Well. OK. That's a... start. I guess I should say something about how house parties are so much more intimate than the craziness of clubs or something like that... but I can shut up now.”  
“Do you always talk when you dance?”  
“Sometimes. It's nice to just chill, right? I mean, to just dance for hours on end and never talk with your partners – that's just weird.”  
“I see. So your talking just now is to make you happy or make me feel comfortable?”  
“Both,” Tom smiled coolly. “I think we are intelligent, smart-mouthed people. We both like to play to an audience and be remembered for all time for our way with words, turn of phrase and charisma.”  
“You think that is what you're like? And I as well?” Loki asked curiously. “For true?”  
“Well, I won't assess myself. 'Let not your own lips praise you', and all that.”

Loki nodded and did not reply and a verse or two of Sting had already played and the DJ morphed the bridge with some other piece. Silence reigned and as the song drew to an end and a new one began, Tom tried to pull away, only to find that Loki wasn't letting go. With a sigh, not wanting to look like a tit, Tom remained, wondering to himself what he had done so bad in his past life to deserve this.

“So, your brothers love sports,” Loki finally said.  
“Yes. Football mainly, although Chris also likes some rugby as well.” Tom blinked in surprise at Loki's attempt at civil conversation. “You like sports?”  
“Not particularly,” Loki admitted. “Although Downey and the others do. It must be an English thing.”  
“Everyone around the world likes at least one sport,” Tom's eyebrow rose.  
“Well, I am not everyone,” Loki sniffed.  
“Yes, I'm aware of that,” replied Tom dryly. “At any rate, there are quite a few coaches here today – from the university and upper school leagues.”  
“As I said, Downey and the others are fond of sport – and good company.”  
“Hm.”

Pause.

“And your brothers and their sporting friends often go to the Horowitz Sports Bar?”  
“Yes,” Tom said. “They're distant relatives of Father.”  
“Father.”  
“Professor Leonard Nimoy,” Tom explained. “He's Father. William's Dad. Confusing, I guess.”  
“Yes. I can see how that could be confusing.” Loki nodded equably. “And they are relatives of your, um, Father.”  
“Yes, you remember that day you and Downey passed by – we were at a sports meet, sort of, very informal. A way to meet the new coaches and staff for this year... In fact, that night you saw us with our new friend.” 

Something flashed across Loki's face – so swiftly, rising and then buried within a few seconds, Tom could barely recognize it. Except that Loki's face suddenly tensed even more into a stony expression of hauteur. Tom suddenly felt like a bit of an ass and decided to drop the subject. _What were you thinking, Tom? Why don't we provoke the crazy man – make sure he follows you home and kidnaps you in your sleep?_

“Ah, yes, well, like my elder brother, Chris Evans is rather gifted in making friends wherever he goes. But I rather doubt he can keep them long.”  
“Oh, he's lost your friendship,” Tom replied emphatically, “which appears to be something he'll have to regret all his life.”

Loki didn't reply. 

The awkwardness didn't last too long however. The two of them turned a little, finding themselves at the edge of a corner where Martin, Ben and a few others had gathered. As they eased away, they nearly bumped into Mr. Levi who had decided for some hair-brained reason to cross the dance floor, instead of taking to the edges of the room like others did.

“This is such a great party,” he said, brushing past the two men who came to an awkward halt – particularly awkward since Loki still didn't want to let Tom have his hand back. Mr. Levi wouldn't stop talking either. “And of course, the both of you look... well, very handsome and graceful on the floor. Pity there aren't more girls for everyone though...” Tom wondered how much alcohol Mr. Levi had consumed ( _you can usually judge by how pro-gay he got_ ). “Still, we need more house parties like these – and more chances for guys like you to dance and get out –“ ( _OK, on his way to very drunk_ ) “– and find that person you've been looking for all your life. I'm talking about how things might get very official, eh? Ding-dong, ding-dong,” here he winked and nodded toward Downey and Mark who were plastered to each other more or less in a very sweet looking embrace. “Well, keep the dancing up – I have something to nitpick with Horowitz about, really, that man...” With that, Mr. Levi wandered off, leaving behind a very thoughtful Loki.  


-0-0-0-

Loki's eyes darted to his friend. Downey did indeed look very cozy with Mark. _Mark... well..._ He looked happy. _Serene. And of course he would be_ , Loki frowned, _he is climbing the ladder to success and security. This cannot be good._

“What were we talking about?” Loki dragged his mind away from the unwelcome realization that was making itself more and more felt over time and brought back to the present, to the delectable mortal in his arms. Unlike Downey, his heart wouldn't be trapped by barely tamed blonde curls and blue eyes. No, he would give and take pleasure – and that would be all. _If Thomas desired it. If he could successfully persuade the mortal this would be mutually beneficial. Thomas was a smart man. Surely he would not turn down such an opportunity..._  
“I don't think we were talking at all,” Thomas replied, laughter in his voice and blue eyes sparkling with faint mockery. “Out of all the people to interrupt, Mr. Levi picked the right ones – seeing as out of everyone in the room, we have the least amount of things to say to each other. I think we've hit a dead end. This is a first for me.”  
“What do you think about books?” Loki asked, finding another smile creeping onto his face again at Tom's merry self-flagellation.  
“Books? I don't know if we can talk about that, Loki. I mean, I think we enjoy very different books – and even if we did find one that we both liked, don't you think our feelings might be really different?”  
“Oh, you think that is the case?” Loki's eyebrow rose. “Well, that is good news – we can never run out of things to say then – comparing our differing opinions and recommending titles.”  
“On the dance floor? Seriously? Who can talk about books on the dance floor?” Thomas's blue eyes were now aflame with laughter. “Whenever I'm on the dance floor, that's hardly what I like to think about!”

_I'm sure it is not_ , Loki agreed inwardly. _You little wench. With those teasing eyes and seductive looks and persuasive tongue so like my own..._

“So you live in the present all the time,” Loki suggested.  
“You really should,” Thomas shrugged. “Carpe diem and all that.” A pause. Then, as another random thought popped into his mind: “Oh!”  
“Oh what?”  
“You once said that once someone pissed you off, that was it.”  
“Yes...” Loki replied cautiously.  
“And you never want to be blinded by prejudice or anything like that?”

Loki remembered all those years – the hatred of the Jotun just another part of his life like breathing and court affairs. And then the truth. The self-hatred. The inability to understand – understand anything. The fall. _No, Loki._ The fall. And the pieces which shattered in Thanos's hands as he landed. Already so fragile. No. Prejudice was something he knew.

“I hope not,” he said softly.  
“So, that means if you really can't change your mind about people,” Thomas went on. “You must be particularly careful about judging them.”  
“Where are you going with this?”  
“Just wondering,” Thomas replied airily. “Trying to figure you out.”  
“Hm. Are you succeeding?”  
“Nope. You, Loki, make no sense at all. And everyone says different things about you...”  
“Well, rumours are the last things that should be believed,” Loki pointed out earnestly. “At any rate, you really should not make any decision or definition of me... It will not help either of us, really – and would put us both in a bad light.”  
“You really do talk posh all the time, don't you?” Thomas said, fascinated. “Well, I'll think about it – I have a feeling that if I don't figure you out now, I might never be able to.”  
“I am here and will be here a while yet,” Loki said coolly. “But, if it makes you happy to poke about, by all means, poke.”

Thomas looked down and bit his lip – and Loki found himself hard pressed to resist pulling the man closer and burying his head against that shoulder so like his own. Kiss those now slightly reddened thin lips. Once again, his anger turned inward at himself for shutting Thomas out and at the thrice-cursed mortal Evans.  


-0-0-0-

When the song came to an end, Tom managed to tear himself away (literally) and Loki drifted off. Tom had just reached the snack table when Johnny came up, Orlando in tow as usual.

“Hey, Tom, your bro was just telling me that you guys met the infamous Chris E. He had a bunch of questions about him – and I just gotta warn you that the dude is not kosher. Like, he's the son of the security or something at Loki's American house or whatever. Anyways, Evans is a douche. First class. Don't listen to what he says, okay?”  
“Sorry,” Tom said. “Uhh...”  
“And,” Johnny went on. “I don't know the full details, but Evans was a real prick – even though Loki and his dad were really nice to him and stuff – and Downey had invited him, but we were all glad when he couldn't come... it'd really be mean to Loki.”  
“Okayyy...”  
“Of all the places to show up, you know? It's like he's enjoying tormenting Loki or something like that!” Johnny shook his head. “I tell ya, crazy. Anyways, sorry to here your buddy is a jerk – but that's what you get from his kind of folk.”  
“Um,” Tom frowned. “That's really... unkind of you to say, Johnny. To be guilty just 'cause he's from working class? Seriously? We don't live in the 1800s anymore. And besides, so far, all he's done wrong is to be the son of a security guard outfit boss. I'm afraid you need more proof than that.”  
“Well, sor-ree,” huffed Johnny, rolling his eyes. “Just wanted to give you a friendly heads up!”  
“Right.”

Tom and Johnny parted. Tom mumbling to himself about snobbery and class-ism and the stupidity of people expecting him to throw over a good friend just because he wasn't rich or anything like that. At the sight of Mark, finally off the dance floor, Tom felt relief – but on arriving at his brother's side, any thoughts he had about Chris E and Johnny disappeared as he noticed the little bounce in Mark's step and the happy gleam in Mark's eye. Even Mark's lips were curled up at the edges with his rare shy smile, which Tom knew was a shout-out to the world that seventh heaven happiness was occurring. 

“I was going to see if you heard anything about Chris E – but I think Downey kept you busy with much more exciting things,” Tom elbowed his brother gently.  
Mark laughed sheepishly. “Well, true, he did his best... but, uh, I did ask. And it's not clear cut, I'm afraid. Downey just said he knew that something happened – not the details – and that Chris had apparently done something to Loki? I don't know. He doesn't know. But Downey is sure Chris isn't, you know, on the straight and narrow exactly. Or something. I don't know. It's frustrating, but it seems like Loki might be in the right on this one.”  
“Downey doesn't know Chris himself.”  
“No. Didn't see him until that night outside the sports bar.”  
“Well, he probably got everything from Loki,” Tom mused. “Did he say anything else?”  
“Hm... Downey did mention that there had been conditions about Chris's education – in order for him to take his dad's spot.”  
“I'm sure Downey isn't lying or anything,” Tom smiled at Mark, “but he may have been lied to. The fact that he's sticking up for an ass like Loki seems to me to show that Downey is really just a great guy – but he doesn't know the situation enough for me to be satisfied – so my opinion will stay as is.” 

And with that, Tom changed the subject – so that when Downey and a few of his buddies showed up, Mark and he were discussing whether they would have snow for Christmas and if there was to be snow, where they could find a hill for sledding. Once Downey returned, Tom hunted down Zach. They were chatting together when Adam suddenly appeared at Tom's elbow looking very excited.

“You won't guess what I just heard,” Adam said.  
“I can't guess,” Tom sighed. “What is it?”  
“Loki Laufeyson is here!”  
“Oh, right, yes, I guess you haven't met him,” Tom mused.  
“The adopted son of my boss! This is amazing! You know that he's supposed to be engaged to Miss Sigyn? The one who is at the finishing school or whatever you Brits call it. Well, she is very pretty – but I heard from Mr. Levi that he's a little queer. I mean. Gay. I mean, maybe he's bi? Anyways. I'm so pumped. I think I'm going to go say 'hi'.”  
“Uh... Adam... you seriously going to just go up to him and say hi?”  
“Why not? He is my boss's son – and it'll be a great honour for me to know him before I start work and all – and besides, Mr. Odinson, I know, always wants news of his boys (according to the dossier I read last night) – so this is a great opportunity to pass along hellos and stuff.”  
“Uh. Adam. I really wouldn't. He's, well, a bit of an ass – and kinda crazy.”  
“Tom's right,” Zach said gently. “I'd let it go, Adam. Another time.”  
“Or get Downey to introduce you guys – make sure Downey is there –“  
“But it's just a simple hello,” Adam said bewildered.  
“Loki is anything but simple,” Tom sighed. “Trust me.”  
“And trust me, Tom,” smiled Adam. “I move in high society too. I mean, it's American – so it's not quite like it is here – but Laufeyson's dad is from America – and I'm sure I can handle this just fine. What's he going to do? Seriously?”

Tom could have answered the last question – quite luridly in fact, but he could tell that it was already too late. Adam was set on inflicting himself on Loki and vice versa. And before Tom could make up his mind whether to risk his life and limbs on the dance floor with Adam again in an effort to distract the man, or just tackle Adam or hit him on the head or something like that, Adam was across the room, holding out a hand to Loki. Which Loki just eyed with a marked lack of enthusiasm. More like a mortician eyeing a closed-casket client. Adam dropped his hand and carried on valiantly. 

Loki, although shorter, had pulled himself up to his full height and was glaring at the man before him. Tom flinched as Adam's fulsome words began to spew out in earnest – with words like “Viking Security”, “senior partner”, “London”, “your father” and et cetera. Finally, Adam stopped talking long enough to for Loki to say something monosyllabic. Adam didn't get the hint. He kept going. Tom felt certain that if he hadn't been marked for death at the hands of Loki, he was now. _Forget death. Loki would stand on their college commons and shout to the world how idiotic and impolite Tom's family was. And he would be right._ Tom groaned. 

Adam had paused. Loki said something even more sharper and then turned away – effectively ending the conversation, allowing Adam to return back to Zach and Tom.

“Well, that went well,” Adam said breezily.  
“Really,” Tom replied deadpan, blue eyes wide.  
“Yes. Really quite proper. Not American at all – more stiff upper lip there. I guess that's what happens when you come from a family with real money.” Adam nodded as if this could make sense and justify whatever Loki did. “He really was quite nice – and said that his father had a good eye for loyal men.”  
“Uhhh...” Tom wanted to ask if there had been any sarcasm involved, but managed to restrain himself. 

Realizing that he would mentally combust from his not-cousin's idiocy, Tom left Zach to Adam's tender mercies and returned to the buffet table to grab some more food, while trying to distract himself by musing on Downey and Mark's obvious happiness. He really could see them having a great future together. _Of course, saying anything to Dad would be the worst_ , Tom sighed. _Speaking of which..._ Tom turned slowly and in horror as the sound of his Dad's trumpeting voice blared from over his shoulder to Mrs. Levi on Tom's other side.

“... and that's when I KNEW that it was basically a done deal – and you know how that really makes me feel quite pleased, because a parent always wants the best for their kids – and seeing Mark married to Downey – with all that money – well, he'll be set for life!”

Tom froze as his dad's words resonated down the buffet table. 

“What? Oh, right – well, they would stay here, wouldn't they? This is a great house – and I could pop over so easily! Although I guess Downey could have a few other houses – maybe one in London and one back in America. It's hard to tell with these millionaires – but the best thing is that if Downey keeps throwing parties like these – my other boys will be able to catch the best of the bunch –“

_He was like the thing that would never shut up!_

“– and then our whole family will be rich – rich, handsome boys with a bright future ahead of them – all thanks to Mark!”  
“Dad... I think you really should – I don't know, lower your voice or something...”  
“I really hope that Zachary finds someone as well. Someone just like Downey – sexy and with lots of money –“  
“DAD!”  
“Oh, Tom, shush. Mrs. Levi, you have such a sweet boy! He deserves the best too!”  
“Dad, you really should stop while you're ahead –“  
“Tom, you're being silly.”

Tom sighed and turned – only to find himself under the hard scrutiny of Loki. Again. And this time it wasn't so difficult to guess Loki's thoughts on the matter. Tom might as well have been one of those white worms revealed from beneath a rock, or a snail scraped off the bottom of a shoe. 

The blonde winced, cheeks a little red with embarrassment and he nudged his dad hissing in the shorter man's ear: “Dad, Loki is –“  
“Who cares what the fucker thinks?”  
“Uh... Dad. That is – that is totally not right, and you know it,” Tom sighed, feeling like this was escalating out of all reason. “They are friends, you know – and you need to respect everyone on this planet, whether you like them or they like you or not.”

With that, he turned away, sighing, edging past Loki with a mumbled 'sorry'. When he turned at the door to look back one last time, he discovered that Loki's attention had shifted – back onto him and away from William. The green eyes were – oddly – surprisingly – not filled with anger or scorn, but an unreadable seriousness. 

In the hallway, a group of men had gathered again – as usual, satellites around the eternal debaters (Irons and Horowitz and Levi). In the middle, this time, Ben was hotly debating some matter with Horowitz, and judging by the rising voices, this was pretty serious. Tom glanced at his Father and raised an eyebrow, tipping his head. When the swearing escalated, Leonard stepped in, pulled his son back and said to everyone, “OK, boys, we can just lay'em out and measure them if you like – but for now, I'll just take Ben off. Ben, time to let it go. You can debate with Horowitz another night.”

Ben looked betrayed and stiffened. He pulled away from Leonard, said something rather cutting to the group and stomped off like a small child. After a few seconds, Martin followed looking a little distressed. Tom withheld his impulse to bang his head against the hallway wall. _Yes. This was just great. Great. Yet another humiliating thing to watch. Nimoy-Shatners rocking the boat. As usual._

And of course, there was Zach and Adam at the dancing room door, with Adam saying, “What a guy, Ben – he's brilliant, isn't he? Scary, too. I guess that's the way with all geniuses. They just get so involved and can't tear themselves away and then they end up really imbalanced. I guess, in the end, that's what life is – a struggle to maintain balance. Mr. Gallup said to me, 'Everything in moderation'. That's what he said. I think that's totally true. I would love to be able to get into half the stuff that Ben does – but then, I'm working with Viking Securities now, so I have to lay fun aside and just plug away, you know?” 

This whole monologue, which resounded down the hallway, was met with indifference by most – but the telltale snort of Loki who had apparently followed Tom out into the hallway was not encouraging. Leonard just chuckled to himself. 

Tom wondered if he could go home now. _Yes. That would be great._ He slipped into the dance room – only to be greeted with the awkward sight of Chris dirty dancing with Dom and Billy – and further down, Matt making out with Arthur and Karen. _At the same time. Somehow._ Looming over them, Tom glared at the three until Arthur had the grace to pull away, blushing. Karen pouted and flounced off to find more drinks. 

“What,” sighed Matt. “It was just a little fun!”  
“I'm fine with fun – but not at a party, Matt,” sighed Tom. “Get some class.”  
Matt snorted, “Class smass. Who cares? You're just jealous you aren't getting any.”  
“So, people here are a bit... odd... don't you think?” asked the Stranger, who had been seated at the end and had been watching the entire proceedings with a fascinated air. “The whole touchy feely thing. And the, ah... other people, the person here. Ah... and there he is – what's his name again?”

Tom turned, slowly and glanced back – even though he had a good guess. _Yes._

“That would be Loki,” he said. “Loki Laufeyson. Son of Odinsson. Some kind of north European tycoon. I don't know...”  
“He's still following you about.” Pause. And then, archly: “Did you know that?”  
“Yes,” Tom said shortly, then added hastily. “He's rather hard to miss.”  
“Indeed,” said the Stranger. “Ah. You don't know me. Call me the Doctor, Tom. You know you look a lot like him? You brothers? No? Hm. Pity. That would have been a nice reassuring solution. People don't seem to think about it much though. Funny that. Perception filter, maybe. A moving one. Or something like that – Matt, you want to check it out with me?”  
“I guess,” sighed Matt. “Nothing else fun is going to happen around here with Chastity Belt Saint Thomas.”  
“There's this thing I have,” the Stranger was saying. (Tom wasn't sure if he really should call the man Doctor.) “Not scarey – at all. It's a blue box – and really, nothing to panic about, we'll just go for a quick trip to check out this whole strange business of doubles or mirrors or twin souls or – well, it's a theory.”  
“What the hell are you talking about?” Matt followed him out, obviously confused.  
“Twin souls. Your brother – well, not brother – Tom. Tom who is adopted. And there's Loki.”  
“Who is also adopted,” supplied Matt helpfully.  
“What?” the Stranger stopped and eyed Matt. “Say that again.”  
“Loki is adopted. He's also adopted.”  
“Interesting.”  
“You think they're related? Really?”  
“Well... by related do you mean by blood? No. I scanned them both. Do you mean by mirror souls? Maybe. But the DNA is all wrong – no no no – I must be missing it – it's probably standing right in front of me –“ The Stranger looked about and then landed back on Matt who stood there, thumbs in his skinny jeans waiting. The Doctor looked Matt up and down. Waved his silver small scanner thing and then said, “Ohhhh. Oh.” Then even longer: “Ohhhhhhh.” 

With that, the two of them were gone. Tom sighed. _Was this night going to get worse – or weirder? Weirder would be better than worse, though..._

The evening dragged painfully on – and finally, finally everyone was leaving. Zach had been a true blue friend and had saved Tom from death-by-insanity-by-Adam – and had volunteered to dance with Adam a couple of times to give the blonde a breather. Often, Tom would return to find that Zach and Adam had fetched up in some corner and were chatting away contentedly. That was nice.

Ben and Martin had emerged from somewhere – Ben looking calmer and happier. His hand in Martin's. Tom sighed with a relief. _A good sign. What. Holding hands?_ Tom twisted about. _Yes. Holding hands. Miracles of all miracles. Was William seeing this? Probably not._ He never saw much of anything beyond Chris and Mark. 

Downey and Mark floated about as well – and when it came time to leave, the Nimoy-Shatner-Baldwin group were one of the last to go. By then, Tom could see that Johnny and Orlando (and Loki) were more than happy to see them all go. Downey, of course, was disconsolate – and promised to invite Mark over for another sleepover – alcohol free, which Mark agreed to with another quiet smile. William could not stop talking and in the end it took a combined effort on Leonard, Mark and Tom's parts to get everyone off Downey's cold front porch and back into their own house. 

Thinking back on the evening and how Loki had always stuck close, but never talking to him, Tom guessed that their discussion about Evans had piqued Loki's interest. Either that or he liked to watch Tom squirm in humiliation as his family behaved like asses. It was too depressing to consider.

Still, watching Downey and Mark had been encouraging – and Tom knew that William had noticed as well. William kept on and on – talking about it like it was a done deal, while Leonard made sarcastic comments or scathing remarks on William's airheadedness. Tom also had a feeling William's joy was also due in part to himself and how Adam had been paying so much attention to him. 

Tom could almost read William's mind – a double wedding, both sons happily married and residing in England with wealthy or partially wealthy men. Yes. William's life was made.

The blonde, curly-haired young man contemplated the monastic life. _It would be much simpler._ He remembered Loki's wild green eyes watching him from the side of the dance floor. _And much safer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOLZ.  
> So what did you think?  
> Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> I thought writing the Doctor was so much fun - and of course Loki behaving like a dick is so awesome - especially when he's trying to be nice to Tom and just epically failing! lolz
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	19. Christmas Madness Ensues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, now we start the drama in earnest. :P Let's see how true I can stick to the story... *adds in an extra scene* Uhh... Hm.
> 
> Anyways... Happy St. George's Day! I celebrated it with my English friend. We ate homemade scones (made by us), tea and Henry IV Part 2 ("The Hollow Crown"). Yep. I hear it's not a popular holiday and rather ruined by hyper-nationalists - but as a Canadian, I feel like I can celebrate it in a laid-back fashion. :) 
> 
> So here's to England which is responsible for so many amazing things like Twinings tea, Jane Austen and Tom Hiddleston! Yes!

Chapter 19  
Christmas Madness Ensues  


After Downey's incredibly memorable Christmas House Party, life began to speed up in earnest as due dates loomed – and finals. Tom spent most of his days preparing for his exams – and, looking about him, noticed that everyone else appeared to be, more or less, also buckling down, nose to the grindstone. Tom had his performance to prepare for, which would begin sometime late January. The entire Classics Department was already in an uproar over costumes and props – and even Leonard had to get involved for the sake of sanity and peace.

Besides school insanity, there was the usual Christmas family insanity, which had escalated due to Matt's week-long disappearance after the house party. When he returned, it was to thunderous looks from Leonard (which sadly didn't last too long, since Leonard was a busy man) and excited exclamations from William who wanted to find out which sexy guy Matt had finally chosen (instead of asking more important questions like 'why didn't you call us' and 'did you use a condom'). Tom tried to pry the truth out of Matt – but the tall brown-haired almost young adult just said that he'd hung out with a friend, that nothing had happened... yet. 

Tom could hear the 'yet' quite clearly. Matt was obviously going to hang out with his unknown boyfriend/girlfriend again. 

“Just tell us when you're going,” Mark finally sighed. “And a rough estimation of how long you'll be gone, OK?”  
“And give us a short call,” added Tom, arms crossed as he glared at Matt. “You gave us a heart attack – and your teachers aren't pleased. At all.”  
“We'll probably disappear for a few days during the hols,” Matt said.  
“Well, that's nice, but let us know when you do decide to disappear.”  
“You can't tell me what to do,” Matt replied, brows knitted together. “You aren't Dad.”  
“Matt, you know Dad isn't the most... he doesn't use commonsense as much as other dads do,” Mark sighed. “You know that. Don't take advantage of your freedom and risk your life – your education – and your relationships just because of some guy. Be sure to bring him around too.”  
“I need to vet him,” Tom said. “You're barely over the age of consent.”  
“I'll be eighteen this year!” huffed Matt.  
“My point exactly.”

And with that, the conversation ended. More abruptly because Arthur and Karen were at the door with twin looks of aggression of their own. After that, Matt's excursions ended for a short time (particularly when Coach Kirk and Assistant Coach Spock chewed him out). This was all replaced by new idiocy on the part of Chris who had apparently made out with Dom and Billy on the couch and would've gone to third base if Mark hadn't walked in. More shit hit fans – with Tom and Mark arguing with William about how normal teens should be taking it slow and not rushing with people they hardly knew.

The good news about all of this madness was that the problem of Loki and Chris E and everything else was set aside – and even when exams were over, any chance for a breather (or time for serious contemplation) was lost thanks to William's yearly, insane need to have a true blue Canadian Christmas. Whatever that meant.

_It's not like English people don't celebrate it_ , Tom sighed as he and Chris unhappily hung lights and garlands about the house while Ben and Matt strung popcorn for the tree which Mark and Leonard were now setting up. _But Dad just has no restraint – which is weird – I mean, I don't remember any Canadian being this crazy about it... Well...._ Tom had to admit to himself, _it's not like you've met a ton of Canadians. And it just might be a William thing. Still, it's a pain – and kinda embarrassing to be the only people in the neighbourhood with outdoor lights on in November and a huge Santa Claus out front. Not even a genuine Father Christmas. Santa Claus. People probably think we're Americans or something..._

Adam and William were pulling out ornaments. William had discovered (to his joy and Tom's horror) that he had an attentive audience in Adam who was absolutely willing to listen to his in-law's long monologues and stories about his and Leonard's life and the boys. 

Particularly about Tom.

“Ah. Here we are,” William passed over an especially battered pine cone with an unravelling red ribbon attached to the top. “Tom's first ornament.”  
“Wow. Where did you buy this?” asked Adam, reverently holding it up.  
“Made it himself,” William said fondly, gazing at said son who suddenly wanted to hang himself – but not from the mistletoe – that was just an invitation for all sorts of non-cousinly interaction. “How old was he again, Leonard? Six? Tom was rather old when we got him. Much later than when we got Chris or Matt, for example. Chris and Matt were babies when we adopted them. You were so adorable, Chris. You know – so blue-eyed. Just like me when I was a baby. Well, Tom's blue-eyed as well... but Chris's eyes were... more blue. Electric, you know?”  
“Dad,” Chris protested. “Uncool!”

He was ignored. William barrelled on.

“Anyways, Tom was older than the others when we got him. None of the other boys remember LBU –“  
“LBU?” asked Adam.  
“'Life before us',” chorused Matt, Chris and Ben.  
“Ah.”  
“But Tom probably does remember – passed from foster home to foster home. Never really wanted, poor thing. I don't know why. He was such a quiet thing – barely there, you know. A wisp of a kid. You could knock him over with a feather. I guess if you were a normal dad, you'd want a tough kid like Chris to play rugby with, not like Tom. Literally abandoned, the social worker told us, on their doorstep. Well, at least he was healthy – Mark was absolutely psychotic as a kid, if you'd believe it. Probably had some kind of cracked up drug mama –“  
“Dad,” Tom sighed. “I'm sure Adam doesn't want to hear about our sordid –“  
“Nonsense,” William flapped a hand. “Of course he does! What better time to remember how our family came to be than now – at Christmas time. Christmas is all about babies and shit like that. Anyways. Where was I?”  
“Mark being psychotic,” Adam said, clearly disbelieving that gentle Mark could be out of control.  
“I know, hard to imagine sweet Mark like that – but he was a little demon child back in the day – we got help, of course. A nice therapist lady and a few years later, things sorted themselves out. We waited – and then we got Tom. Yes, Tom was older. At least six when we got him. Not like Ben, Matt and Chris. They grew up quite headstrong – but Tom had serious attachment issues – 'cause of his foster parents' abuse, most likely. Dunno who his real parents were – but anyways, Tom wouldn't let go of Leonard when he first came. So anxious to please, poor little guy. Part of his abandonment anxiety, I should imagine. Made this pine cone ornament for Leonard – but we really just call it Tom's First Ornament – oh – Tom! We aren't done yet!”  
“Need some air,” Tom said shortly and disappeared – and a few minutes later, they could hear the door shut a tad bit more forcefully than usual. 

Leonard peered out the window, eyeing Tom's progress down the front walk. The boy had at least remembered to grab a coat. Adam stirred but Mark shook his head minutely at his not-cousin, so he sat back and eyed the others awkwardly.

“Let him go,” Leonard sighed, pulling away from the window. “William, dear, why don't you just... unpack these without the Masterpiece 3000 of our lives? Just because we remember the good parts of life with the boys doesn't mean they can so easily forget LBU.”  
“Tom doesn't just remember the most out of all of us,” Mark added, “he still gets upset. He just doesn't talk about it.”  
“Well,” William sighed theatrically. “It's all water under the bridge now, surely.”  
“Yes – and it should stay there,” Leonard stressed. “Let's not bring up stuff like that again. You never did understand how upsetting it is for Tom – and you know how he struggles with the push and pull of needing people and needing to show his independence. Talking about his issues in public like that – that isn't kind, William.”  
“Well, OK. Fine. I'll take to him later–“  
“No,” Leonard sighed. “I'd best do that. Just get these damn ornaments unpacked.  
  


-0-0-0-

Standing at the edge of his parents' yard, the road before him and an invitingly empty sidewalk. Tom stared down – at the red and white mailbox affixed to the white fence before him, but the mailbox disappeared as another place rose before his eyes. A darker place. 

He saw the edges of light coming through the slats of the closet he had been locked into – he heard his own sniffles – smelt his own mess – felt sharp pangs of hunger and... an increasingly deep desperation to be good. To be wanted. When he had been let out, Tom had understood better. Silence was what they wanted. It was what they got. In that house he learned how to cry without making a sound, nursing the bruises along his sides, hunched on his bed. Tom had always been smart; he always learned the rules quickly. He had only been four years old.

Fists curled in his pockets. _I won't ever feel like that again_ , Tom vowed to himself. _I made that promise, to never apologize for myself again, to be myself and – to never forget that Father – and Dad – will love me no matter what. Mark might find some kind of peace in being so forgiving and kind and easy-going, but I will not afford myself that kind of weakness. Not ever again..._

“Although your mailbox is indeed an interesting object in and of itself, I hardly think it holds the answers to the mysteries of the universe, Thomas,” a cool voice broke into Tom's thoughts.

Tom turned and frowned at the unwelcome sight of Loki before him. Loki in trainers and dark green ankle socks, short black running shorts and a flimsy green T-shirt. _What... How long had he been standing there watching me? How long have I been standing here?_

“Loki,” he said. “What... Sorry. No. I was just... uh, contemplating patricide.”  
“Ah, I see,” Loki's voice softened as he nodded. “So you feel like that at times as well.”

Tom blinked. _What. OK, this is new._

“Uh, yeah,” Tom laughed nervously. “Well, just, sorta... maybe. You get that way about your dad too?”  
“Well, I don't have two dads but my father has a talent for, uh, getting on my bad side,” Loki shifted a little.  
“I see,” Tom said neutrally, while thinking, that's not hard to do after all.  
“But I haven't gotten so far as to commit patricide,” Loki hastened to add. “Not yet anyways.”  
“Yeah,” laughed Tom awkwardly. “In the end, I just head for the hills.”  
“Hills?”  
“I mean – you know, beat it. Go for a walk. Run away.”  
“Running away is probably better than patricide,” Loki said. “Your dad should be thankful.”  
“I guess,” Tom sighed. “But running away never solves problems.”  
“Yes, I learned that lesson as well.”  
“You ran away too?”  
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Loki's face hardened and then smoothed, his green eyes glittered with something almost like regret. “More like falling really, but yes, I fell – uh, ran – away. It was... a dark time. Not one I wish to revisit.”  
“Hm. Well, you learned from it,” Tom said lightly. “That's the important part.”  
“Did I?” Loki cocked his head then with a cool smile. “I am never sure... Still, in the end, I came back. And that is the trick you know. The key.”  
“The key to running away.”  
“Yes, the key. To not run too far away – not so far away you cannot find your way back home.”  
“I know Cambridge like the back of my hand.” Tom smirked a little at his small joke as he added, “I'll never get lost.”  
Loki's eyebrow quirked upward in response and the corner of his lip rose a tad bit. “You know what I am talking about, fool.” He brushed past Tom. “I will see you about, Thomas. Have a merry holiday.”  
“A Merry Christmas,” Tom corrected the man absently, mind reeling from shock as he began to process their conversation.  
“Whatever,” Loki shrugged. “Take care, Thomas.” He paused. “Have a care to not run off to a place where I cannot find you.”

With that cryptic remark, Loki was off down the street, Tom staring at the green-clad back perplexed. _I so did not have a polite conversation with Loki about daddy issues_ , he told himself in a daze. _That did not just happen. Did it?_

He sighed and checked the mail. _I guess it did. What a nutter though –_ Tom recalled Loki's outfit. The man hadn't been wearing hardly anything and had lounged about as if the cold didn't even matter. _Well_ , Tom reminded himself, _they're supposedly from Scandinavia_. He paused and then frowned. _But Downey and Chris and Adam said they come from America too. Like New Mexio. Scandinavian Americans in New Mexico. How does that happen? Do Scandinavian Americans have a genetic ability that helps them deal with the cold, regardless of where they grew up?_

Tom imagined Loki sweating it up in a sauna then running buck naked outside to roll in heaps of white snow. _OK, time out, Tom_ , he smacked himself on the face and walked back in. _Now you're just creeping yourself out._

But it was a nice thought. And better not thought of again. 

-0-0-0-

Christmas turned out to be a blast – and the holidays were incredibly fun. No snow. No sledding – but a ton of rain. Adam found it to be fascinating, and shared with them pictures of the snow back in his hometown in upstate New York. Tom and Mark agreed that they would have to travel to a snowy country one Christmas and experience a white Christmas together. Adam invited himself along – and so did William. _As a chaperone_ , he said. Mark looked at his Dad oddly. Tom changed the conversation quickly. 

Five days before Christmas, Matt went off on another 'trip' with his boyfriend – it turned out to be a boy, in fact, the oddball Stranger at the party who kept on insisting people just call him 'the Doctor'. William liked him – but Leonard loved him even more and encouraged the Doctor to talk with him about all the people he had met. The fact that the Doctor seemed to be OK with telling bare-faced lies ('Queen Lizzy – now there's a woman!' or 'Picasso was never really into backseat painters, did you know?') didn't seem to faze them at all. Leonard thought the fact that Matt had gotten himself a queer one (in more ways than one) amused him. Tom wondered if anyone else were not OK with Matt dating a sociopathic liar. Apparently not. But, as promised, Matt did return on time – with a few strange presents under his arm. 

Christmas morning came. It passed with a late breakfast and then a leisurely time unwrapping gifts, followed by a quiet afternoon (as everyone played with their new toys) – and then an awesome dinner with the Horowitzes. Afterwards, the Levis showed up with some interesting Hanukkah treats and the rest of the night was spent with games and other fun things.

On New Years Eve, William hosted a party with the boys (Leonard had to go to New York for two weeks, something about an award ceremony or something) which was a huge success and Mark went out with Downey and didn't come home that night. William sighed with relief – the fact that Mark had refused to get beyond second base with Downey had been worrying him. Tom had told his brothers (and parents) to stop pressuring Mark – but William, as diva dad, had always been unafraid to air his opinions. 

New Years Day passed uneventfully – until after dinner. After dinner, Adam, winking at William, pulled Tom away from the dining room table saying something about looking at the Christmas Tree lights together. Matt and Chris said they would love to hang too – but William gave them all a look and the two boys sat down. Mark looked about, confused.

“I think I'm missing something,” he said.  
“You really should come,” Tom said, as he was dragged out the door after Adam. “Mark, c'mon, I know you wanna hang and watch the lights – we can put on some –“  
“No, no, no, Tom,” smiled William blithely. “You go and enjoy yourself with Adam.” He chuckled.

Comprehension dawned on Mark's face. Chris, Matt and Ben all snickered.

“Wait 'till Father hears about this,” Chris was whispering to Matt. “This is awesome.”  
“He'll gut himself laughing,” Matt snorted.  
“Guys!” Tom said, but then he was manhandled out into the hall and then into the living room, unable to resist his not-cousin-in-law, knowing that his Dad wasn't going to back him up.  
“This is... OK... strange,” Mark finally said. “How long has this been going on?”  
“Since he arrived, more or less,” William said, giving his younger sons a look. “Adam took a fancy to Tom right away – and who wouldn't?”  
“Well, Tom deserves the best,” Mark mumbled. “I don't know if Adam is really suitable –“  
“Nonsense, Adam is a great kid – and he's going to come into a lot of money. Not like Downey but –“  
“You do realize that I like Downey because of who he is and not because of his money, right?” Mark sighed.  
“Yes, yes, Mark. No need to get huffy. You watch. Give them five minutes and the two of those boys will be fucking like rabbits –“  
“OK, that's my cue to leave,” Ben said.  
“I'm going to get a glass,” Chris said, nudging Matt.  
“If they're going to be fucking like rabbits in the living room, we'll hardly need a glass,” Matt said. “I'm betting Tom's a screamer.”  
“No bet.”  
“Chris! Matt!” Mark's voice rose a little and everyone sat back down. “We're going to... mind our own business and clear off the table. Matt, pack up a plate for Father. Ben, you start the dishes. Chris, you're drying. If I see you three by the living room door, I'll tear your arms off.”  
“He's not joking,” William smiled fondly at Mark. “You're so protective of your brother, Mark. Tom will be fine.”  
“Somehow I doubt that,” sighed Mark.   
  


-0-0-0-

“Tom,” Adam said as soon as the two of them were alone and standing before the Christmas.

Tom thought a few ungentlemanly things, beginning with: _What the fuck – he's holding my hand – I'm doomed._

“Tom,” breathed Adam, drawing Tom closer, never letting go of his right hand. “I know that this may seem sudden and a little scarey for you, but I talked to Uncle William, well, your Dad, and he told me that it was OK – and I know that, what with your, um, background, you might not want to trust me on this so quickly... so I really want to reassure you that this is totally real –“

_I wish to God it wasn't_ , sighed Tom, trying to twist out of his not-cousin's close embrace. 

“– and that these feelings, this love that I have for you has been growing everyday since my arrival at your home. I am more than ready to take this new step with you – becoming partners, getting married and making a stable, secure life together, which I am sure is what you want as well. Now, I know this might seem crazy – but perhaps I should backtrack and explain the why –“

Catching sight of Adam's earnest expression, Tom stifled a laugh and tried to look a little more serious. If he didn't laugh though, he'd start to cry. _Dilemma. Dilemma._

“My reasons for getting married are... well, first off, an ambitious business man like myself needs to have someone who has an ability to be independent, classy, smart, hard-working and a perfect host – which you are, dear Tom. You are perfection itself and I do not have enough words to express that. Secondly, I mean, c'mon, any normal human being wants to have a friend and lover to share the joys of life. Even more so, a sexy man like yourself would make any man happy –“

_What's that supposed to mean?_ Tom bit his lip hard as his gut churned about and his face began to turn red. _This is a travesty... when will he stop?_

“– thirdly,” Adam continued on without pause. “My mom and Mr. Gallup recently have told me it's about time that I got someone – and you know, they are right. I really do need to start looking now that I'm getting closer to thirty. You know, at the Odinsson party, Mr. Odinsson asked me if I was married – and then told me that I really ought to just do it because, and I quote, it is a state of bliss which no man can do without, end of quote. Mr. Gallup quite agreed – and of course, I agreed as well.”  
“Of course,” mumbled Tom.  
“They gave me all sorts of advice. My mother, I know, isn't entirely favourable to your, uh, parents, but that doesn't matter, really, since I want to make my life here. With you. Think about it, Tom, a perfect way to join our families together and healing the breach between our fathers, for you know, I consider your Uncle Steven, my step-father, to be much more of a father to me than any other man in my life. And I would be proud to call Leonard and William my Father and Dad as well – and, I know, I don't have money like Downey – but on my mother's death I will –“  
“Uh, OK, let's just stop here,” Tom said, trying to disentangle himself from Adam's arms, rather unsuccessfully. The man had, by this juncture, pulled Tom up a little too closely for his comfort and had one hand on the small of his back, the other still clasping his hand. “Um. I think now's the time for me to say that this really, really, really, really isn't going to work. I mean, thanks for the, uh, compliment. For thinking of me, but really... I have to say no.”  
“Ahhh... you want to play hard to get?” Adam's tongue flickered across his lips and he crushed Tom closer. “I didn't think it was your style, Tom, but if you insist, I don't mind giving chase –“  
“Uh, no, no, not that at all,” Tom said breathlessly, air leaving his lungs with a small 'oof' as his not-cousin pushed him suddenly down and back into the couch pinning him to the dark-blue cushions. “I'm not playing hard to get. I'm seriously – seriously – not interested. No go to roho, uh, Adam. I'm pretty sure I'm not the guy for you.”

Adam's hands were already finding their way up Tom's shirt by this point and a pair of hot lips fastened on his neck. Tom tried to twist a way, but Adam, now straddling him, had him effectively pinned down. Whimpering just a little, Tom tried to jerk away, managing to force Adam to look him in the eyes.

“Really. I'm not the guy for you, Adam,” he said softly. “I'm sorry. I'm sure your mom and, uh, the people at your office would agree.”  
“Well, you haven't met them yet,” Adam said reasonably. “They just need some time to get to know you as I know you – kind, humorous, lively, humble... the whole awesome Tom package. Well, they're not going to get to know you as well as I'm going to get to know you. Heh heh heh.”

Tom's blue eyes widened as Adam leaned in for a long, hard bruising kiss which left him breathless – but not in a good way. 

“Listen, Adam, you're, you're really kind and I really wish you good luck finding someone – and sharing with them all the blessings you have. But that someone isn't me. Really. It's not. I don't care if you take all of Leonard's stuff and money and the estate and everything. I won't be mad – you don't have to make up anything to me.”  
“Oh Tom, it's just like William said,” Adam replied softly, his hand rose to cradle Tom's jaw, a large finger tracing Tom's lower lip gently. “You're so willing to please and give – but you have to think about yourself –“  
“I am!”  
“– and just take good things when they come –“  
“Listen, really, no, Adam. Let it go.”

Tom managed to edge himself out from under Adam – and was about to rise and beat it when Adam's next words stopped him.

“Here, listen, I'll let you think it over – and maybe later on tonight we can announce it together. I know you're going to say yes, so –“  
“Adam. I'm not going to say yes,” Tom replied exasperated. “I'm never going to say yes. I'm not leading you on or anything. Why won't you believe me?”  
“Tom, Tom, listen to yourself. You're just afraid. You're afraid you won't be taken care of – but don't worry, I'll take care of you. You're afraid you aren't good enough. That's a lie – you're a treasure, Tom. And you will be so happy when we are together, you won't regret it.”  
“Uh, I am not – what? What the hell...” Tom ran his hands through his curls distractedly. “I don't know what shite Dad is spouting off but I am not – I am not afraid... seriously, Adam. I am hardly the person you want. Really. I'm not as nice as you think I am – and I am not going to hurt a great guy like you by pretending to be in love when I'm not. I'm very, very flattered, but the answer is no.”  
“You're cute, Tom, even when you look a little mad,” Adam grinned and drew Tom close. Tom sagged back in disbelief at the man's continued stupidity. “And as for your denials... your parents are totally going to back me up on this one, dude, you want this. This is the best thing you're going to get.”  
“Wha –?” Tom's blue eyes opened wide then, in disbelief. “Sorry. What?”

And with that, Tom stopped talking and Adam chatted on and on about how William would be so happy and Leonard was basically going to say yes on the spot and how sexy Tom was and how they were going to be so happy. Tom wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

This was going to be the worst year ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Tom! *pets* What a sad background I've given you! T_T And Mark... 
> 
> Of course some added scenes... and Adam-ness. Hahaha. Poor Adam too!
> 
> Next up... more Adam/Tom madness! @.@


	20. Out of the Frying Pan...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK. Now we can start to climb out of the angst... maybeeeee....
> 
> Let me know what you think!  
> Thanks for the comments and support guys!

Chapter 20

Out of the Frying Pan...

Leonard returned a week later. It was a week from hell for Tom. Every morning, he rose to find Adam at his door with something awfully nice (yet annoying) to say. He was literally waited on hand and foot. Apparently, William loved it. 

Tom, the night of Adam's proposal, had left the living room to find his whole family waiting outside the living room door on the front stairway. Mark was standing there, hands on hips, berating them. 

“But we didn't go near the door,” Matt was saying.  
“I just wanted to go upstairs,” Ben mumbled. “Can I go now?”  
“You said not to go near the door,” Chris backed up Matt. “You said nothing about the stairs.”  
“Oh, Mark,” William flapped a hand. “Just let it go. It's over now anyways.” He turned to Tom who was brushing past in an attempt to get to his room before he broke down crying – or laughing – or both. “How did it go, Tom?”  
“Not talking about it,” Tom choked out and fled.

Mark frowned, his warm eyes now lit with worry. Judging by Tom's flushed cheeks and reddened lips, something had gone down in the living room. _Something unwanted. Don't tell me..._ Mark thought, unease building in his gut. Just then, Adam emerged from the living room, looking rather pleased with himself. 

“Well, Adam,” William smiled at the younger man. “How did it go?”  
“Hm. Hard to say,” Adam shrugged. “But I think it went well, all things considering. It was a bit of a shock, I think – he's just so... humble, I don't think he actually thought anyone like me would pay much attention to him – so he's still having a hard taking it in. But he'll come around, I'm sure.”  
“So he said 'no',” Mark said calmly – and with a little relief.  
“He did not!” William looked outraged.  
“I don't think he meant to say no,” Adam rushed to say. “Like I said. Let's give it some time.”

So they gave Tom 'time'. And a week passed by with Adam trying to cozy Tom into saying yes – and his repeated proposals were rejected, with increasing vehemence every day. Some mornings, Adam would come up behind Tom and kiss him on the neck or on the lips, pulling him tightly up against him. Chris and Mark's giggles were ignored by Adam – but Tom felt every snicker, knowing that they did not respect Adam, or Adam's choice. Or him. Some days, he felt like he should just tattoo himself a scarlet letter and be done with it. 

Wednesday afternoon was particularly hard and Adam had gone and gotten him flowers and a special edition of Hot Fuzz, one of Tom's favourite films. Although he had politely declined the gifts, Adam would just not give up and had gone so far as to try to cop a feel – and before he could stop himself, Tom was protesting against a pair of determined lips and trying to pull away from very possessive hands. Finally he managed to break free and was down the hallway and moving out the door before you could say 'knife'. Downey eyed Tom as he brushed past him moodily and slammed his way out of the front door. William's shouts of displeasure (“Tom, what the hell are you doing? Get back here!”) still echoed down the hallway – and for a moment, the usually suave young man paused and turned to Mark who had just invited him in. Mark sighed.

“Adam asked Tom to marry him.”  
“They were seeing each other?” Downey blinked. “Since when?”  
“Since never.”  
“And I'm guessing Tom said no.”  
“Yeah.” Mark paused. “More like... repeatedly. If it wasn't for Tom's nerves, I'd laugh – but it really isn't funny after the second day.”  
“Tough.”  
“Uh-huh. It's been a pretty rough week for Tom – and all of us. But mostly for Tom.”  
“Poor guy,” Downey said sympathetically. “And Adam.”  
“Yeah, no kidding. Really awkward for all of us,” Mark sighed. “I feel bad for the guy – but mostly I'm worried about Tom.” He paused at the sight of Adam, pulling on a coat and heading out the door. “Oh. Uh. Are you trying to find Tom?”  
“Naw,” Adam frowned. “I'm going to go out and hang with Zach.”  
“Sure, OK,” Mark smiled with relief. Pause. “Good idea.” Another pause. Even more awkward. “Well... Have fun.”  
“Thanks,” grunted Adam and stomped out with a loud bang.  
“Well, that wasn't awkward at all,” Downey said.  
“Yep. Welcome to my world,” winced Mark. “C'mon. Let's see what you've got there.”

And they disappeared into Mark's room to “pre-study” for Calc. Yep. That's what they were doing. 

Later on that night, Tom hid in the bathroom until Mark fetched him out, smuggling him into their shared bedroom, where Tom lay down – red-eyed and exhausted from crying. Mark was worried. Tom never cried – and not so obviously that you'd notice. That's when Mark texted Leonard to get the hell back home. The earlier the better. 

When Leonard returned, the house was deceptively quiet – Chris and Matt being out for football practice, Ben visiting the library, Mark and William out shopping – and Tom sleeping on the living room couch, obviously drained – his copy of Oedipus Rex still open in his limp hand. Noticing the bags of exhaustion beneath Tom's eyes, Leonard tutted to himself. _What has Tom been up to? Mark said there was a shit storm coming – but he didn't give details except that it was about Tom_. He sighed. _Great. Another mystery to unravel_. Without a word, he disappeared upstairs and began to unpack. Around twenty minutes later, as he lifted another pair of slacks out of his suitcase, he heard the front door open and shut quietly. 

Not Chris or Matt – they would be noisier. Same for William. _Mark maybe_ , he thought, _or Adam_. He went back to lifting out a few more sweaters. And a new copy of Evita for William. 

There was a crashing sound and a sharp yelp and then voices rising. The front door was opening just as Leonard began to descend the stairs – and suddenly Mark and William were in the hall, eyes agog as Adam appeared at the living room door looking really pissed. Behind him, Tom stood panting, eyes wild and hair mussed.

“Fine, I get it,” Adam snapped back. “I'm going.”  
“What – what – where are you going?” William asked, blue eyes worried as his dreams of a happily married Tom crumbled to dust at the sight of Adam's hard eyes.  
“Out,” Adam snapped, grabbing his door and slamming his way out of the house.  
“Tooommm!” William was mad now, ignoring Mark's soft plea for calm. “Leonard! Oh goodness, Leonard! You're back! You need to talk sense into your son!”  
“About what?” sighed Leonard feeling like he had been somehow transported into a kind of modern play universe where nothing made sense.  
“Tom – he just said no – again!”  
“Sorry, what?” Leonard paused as the door opened again – and Matt and Chris spilled in, their bright voices lowering at the sight of an obviously upset Tom and William. “You know what – let's go to my study. Tom. William. Not here.”

With that, he beckoned and Tom slowly brushed past his silent brothers to stiffly disappear further down the hall to his father's study, followed by an equally serious Leonard and incredibly angry William. Mark turned to his two brothers who were already obviously planning to eavesdrop on the conversation. _Not if I have my way_ , he thought.

“Let's go guys,” he said. “Show's over.”  
“Show's over?” Chris's blue eyes clouded over. “Hardly. I wanna hear what happens.”  
“We'll hear about it later. Let's go.”

And with that, the three trouped downstairs, leaving the hallway empty. 

-0-0-0-

“OK,” sighed Leonard, taking off his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose. “What's going on here? From the beginning.”  
“Leonard – you have to make Tom say yes to Adam's proposal –“ William broke in before Tom could open his mouth. “He's said no, been saying no all week long, and now Adam's thinking that Tom won't have him and he's going to go ask someone else to marry him – and then where will Tom be?”

Leonard blinked at his husband and then shifted his gaze to Tom who stood besides his dad before the desk, eyes cast down on the ground, feet shuffling a little in shame. His fists were clenched at his side and his jaw was tight – a sure sign that Tom was holding back too much. That was something they had had to teach him – to speak his heart and mind and not feel shame, but here was William telling Tom what to do with his life. _Really_ , Leonard sighed rubbing his brow, _I leave for two weeks and this is what happens._

“OK. Let me get this straight. Adam asked Tom to marry him. Tom said no.”  
“Yes,” William said. “He keeps saying no.”  
“What am I supposed to do?” blinked Leonard, letting his natural confusion show – and noticing how Tom's shoulders eased a little at the implication of Leonard's words.  
“You need to talk some reason into the boy,” William said hotly. “This isn't about us – we're fine – but Tom needs to think about his future –“  
“Tom, is this true – about Adam and everything.”  
“Yes, sir,” Tom said, raising woeful blue eyes to meet Leonard's calm, kind ones. 

Leonard winced at Tom's formality. He could tell that Tom was afraid – not of Leonard hurting him, but even worse, of disappointing his Father. Leonard sighed. _Mark was right. In many ways, Tom is still fragile._

“Well, we've come to an impasse then between you and your Dad, right, William?”  
“Yes.”  
“If Tom doesn't marry Adam –“  
“I'm never seeing the idiot again,” sniffed William theatrically.

Tom flinched.

“Well, Tom, this is really, really a hard time for you. And you're going to have to make a choice,” Leonard said slowly and clearly. Tom stiffened. “From this day onward, you are going to have to be a stranger to one of your parents...” Tom blinked in confusion. Leonard stifled a smile. “If you don't marry Adam, your Dad isn't going to talk to you ever again.” Pause for effect. “And I won't see you ever again if you do.”

Tom's head jerked up at the last sentence – and William paused in horror as Leonard's words sank in.

“What the hell are you going on about?” William's voice rose. “I told you to tell him to get a grip! To marry Adam, dammit!”  
“William, dear,” Leonard said calmly. “Two things. One: my ideas of what it means to talk with Tom are very different from yours. Never mistake that. Two: this is my study – and I'd like it better if it were empty.”

With a sigh and a rolling of the eyes, William gave up, knowing that he had been defeated, and giving Tom an annoyed look, he flounced off. Leaving Tom behind, still standing awkwardly before his father's desk, face studiously blank. Leonard rose and came around the front, reaching out squeeze his son's shoulder. Tom then meet his eyes again – meekly and then, after Leonard had drawn him into a reassuring hug, Tom found he could smile again.

“Thank you, Father,” Tom said. “I'm sorry that I can't – that I couldn't –“  
“Adam is fine as a relation,” Leonard smiled. “He is amusing – but not, I think, as a son-in-law – and despite his fine qualities, he is less than what you deserve, Tom. You show good sense. I'm proud of you.”  
“Thanks.”  
“Now, go upstairs and reassure your brothers of your continued single status – I'm certain Mark will be relieved if no one else... and ignore your Dad. He'll come around.” Leonard grimaced. “He always does.”  
“Thanks, Father,” repeated Tom, now relaxed and feeling as if he could live again. A warm smile wreathed his face and a new light sparkled in his light eyes. Leonard nodded. “Love you,” Tom whispered, repeating the hug and then pulling away and allowing Leonard his much-loved peace.  
“Love you too, son,” Leonard sighed shaking his head and returned to his chair, muttering, “make him get married indeed! William, William... What am I to do with you?”

As a result, that evening, Leonard called Adam's mobile to see if he would be in for dinner. According to Zach who picked it up, he was not. Leonard extended apologies for the mix-up, once again offering regrets in place of his uncontrollable partner. Zach said that Adam would come around in time and calm down – and that he felt it would be better if Adam stayed the night to cool down. Leonard agreed, if only because Tom needed a good night's sleep as well, free from obvious reminders of the whole situation which would no doubt cause him to wallow in guilt if allowed. 

Adam and Zach came by the house the following morning – and while Adam packed up for his seminar, Zach sat and listened to William moan and Chris burble the news into his ever attentive ear.

“It's crazy,” wailed William pouring himself some more coffee – and Bailey's Irish Cream. “How could he say no? And I thought Tom was the most sensible out of the bunch! Well... I should say smart – smart doesn't mean he's got commonsense. Which he obviously hasn't.”  
“Isn't it hilarious? We've got such a fucked up family,” Chris was guffawing. “And cousin Adam... didn't get the hint – at. All.”  
“Well, it was more annoying,” Ben frowned. “But he should've known that Tom wouldn't go for him.”  
“You would though,” Chris smirked.  
“Maybe,” Ben shrugged. “But he didn't ask me, did he? People always go for Mark – or Tom – or you.”  
“That sounds a little like jealousy,” William frowned at his third son.  
“Well, it's true!”  
“I can't help be attractive,” Chris said indignantly. “It's 'cause I know how to have fun – and I actually do other things than read.”  
“I don't suppose you could talk to him,” sighed William returning to the subject at hand. “You understand how it is, Zach. Nowadays, a guy can't be so choosy – the economy the way it is – and Adam's working for those Viking people. I mean, he's a catch!”

Before Zach could get a word in edgewise, Mark and Tom showed up. 

“Yes, and here he comes. The crusher of high hopes. The bruiser of beautiful dreams,” William threw up his hands. “Without an ounce of regret. You know, if you keep it up, Tom, you're never going to get anyone. You know – why am I talking to you? I said I wouldn't – and I won't. Talking to idiots brings no joy to me – particularly children who don't know what's good for them. Oh! Why is my family so screwed up?”

Tom found a bowl, a spoon, cereal and milk silently, while Mark sighed and patted William on the back. Zach raised an eyebrow as Tom sat down and began to eat, face stony – and unyielding. It definitely looked like an impasse in the Nimoy-Shatner household, but Zach wasn't too worried. This kind of thing happened quite a bit, and everyone knew what to do. Basically, ignore William.

When Adam came in, obviously ready to go over to his class, Zach rose – with William and the rest. Tom left the room, followed by Mark and Ben. Chris lingered, wanting to hear the what would happen.

“Adam –“  
“Listen, Uncle William,” Adam said with a tight sad smile. “I think we'd best put this whole thing behind us and just forget it, OK. It's obvious Tom doesn't share... had never shared the feelings I have, the feelings I had, for him – and I should've just taken his first answer a week ago. I was an idiot to think that it was OK to ask you guys to talk to him, since it really should have stayed between us. I'm really sorry to upset the whole family like this... and I hope you'll forgive me – and just bury the hatchet as it were.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! It's over! YAY!  
> Well, not the story.
> 
> Mark angst coming up.  
> And my Tom has mild abandonment issues - which is amazing. I think.   
> *is a sadist*  
> How did a crack fic get so serious? *pokes angst issues back into closet*
> 
> Oh wells.  
> Anyone else excited about long-haired Thor 2 movie?  
> MY ovaries exploded.  
> But that's cause I dig long-haired men. Yum.


	21. Into The Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all those who are reviewing! For those who've given kudos. You happy few~ :P
> 
> I hope you enjoy this next installment of AU and crack (sort of) and angst. o.O
> 
> Crack and angst?  
> It can happen.  
> But I don't think it's so angsty - just a touch melancholy.

 

Chapter 21  
Into the Fire

With that short apology, things were in a small way set to rights – or at least, smoothed over. Of course, things could never be the same again between Adam and Tom – and even the rest of the family felt a bit awkward whenever their not-cousin walked into the room. It helped however that Adam had gotten a life beyond the Nimoy-Shatners and had a bunch of friends to hang out with on a regular evening. One of them was Zach – and it was Zach who listened to Adam's tale of woe and comforted him when the man felt overwhelmed with wounded pride.

Tom said nothing. If Zach wanted to catch Adam on the rebound, so be it. The whole thing was doomed to failure.

Things were more cheerful for Tom when he found time to visit the Horowitz sports pub and managed to bump into Chris E. It had been a while since they could properly catch up – and for the first time, Tom could hear what Chris E had been up to during Downey's Christmas House Party.

“Well, the thing is, as the party got closer, I realized that I would be really raining on Downey's party if I showed up. Getting into a pissing match with Loki is the furthest thing from my mind, really. So I just... avoided it – and got some business done in London, which I had to work on anyways.”  
“Wow,” Tom said. “You're so kind, really, to think of it that way. Especially since you're the victim in this situation.”

Chris E smiled and the two of them decided to join a group for a walk in the nearby park which afforded the two of them even more time chatting and having a great time getting reacquainted with each other. Once more, Tom was reminded of why he enjoyed Chris E's company so much and Chris E seemed to feel the same.

This was how the school year passed by. January trickled into February. February, the month of love, of course, turned out to be a torrid affair with Downey showering enormous gifts on the ever super quiet Mark who still hesitated to throw himself totally at Downey, to William's dissatisfaction. Ben and Martin went on a small outing to a book signing and a dinner at a quiet restaurant. Tom approved.

The younger boys were a mess as usual. Chris went on a date with Dom which caused a horrible quarrel between Billy and Dom and Leonard ended up having to intervene, which annoyed him no end. Matt disappeared again with his boyfriend for the weekend and came back looking a little breathless and saying something about boudoirs in France and King Louis the XIVth. Tom did not want to know what kind of role play nonsense his brother was getting into with the Doctor. Really he did not. But it was a bit disturbing.

As for Tom, he contented himself with hanging out with Zach (when his friend wasn't hanging out with Adam) or one of his other schoolmates. And there was preparation for Electra in earnest now. Lines to be memorized, accent and pronunciation to be polished. Valentine's Day was really the furthest from his mind. If he was sad to be alone on  
February the 14th, he did not say.

There was also his birthday – spent in a quiet way with a few of his friends at a restaurant followed by drinking. Adam was very much not there – and Zach left early to comfort his new friend that evening, which made Tom feel like an uncaring jerk. Chris E, as usual, was the highlight of the night for Tom, as was Mark's gift – a new pair of runners. At home, William gave him a gift and a handsome apology stating that he'd behaved like a 'dick' and would Tom forgive him. Tom already had – but it felt nice to accept William's apology and give his sometimes annoying Dad a hug.

 _It's hard to remember_ , Tom sighed, _but in the end, Mark is right and people really do wish the best for us. Other things just get in the way._

When the opening night for Electra came, his family attended – and Downey as well. Adam came with Zach and sat in the background. Afterwards, Tom, accepting praise from his parents (William was now talking to him again), smiled and raised an eyebrow at his younger brothers who shrugged. Chris and Matt cheerfully admitted they might have fallen asleep halfway through. Chris had played Temple Run for the most part on his phone – and wanted to get back to electricity before it completely died. Ben had listened – and thought it 'wasn't bad for an amateur', which Tom accepted as truth. Mark hugged his brother and said he was proud of Tom's achievement and Leonard said he'd come again because he wanted to get a couple uncertain points ironed out. Downey nodded. Adam and Zach left quickly – but not before Zach waved and gave Tom a thumbs up.

The second night, Tom finished up and after removing any of the stage makeup still left on his face, slipped out the back, heading for the last bus. Moving down the sidewalk, he brushed past someone absently – and then paused at his name being called.

“Thomas.”  
“Loki?” He turned and eyed his neighbour. The one who had not bumped into him for quite a while. “Oh. Wow. Uh, hi.”  
“You just came from your performance,” Loki said, and then frowned. “No one is coming to pick you up?”  
“Well, it's not so bad – I just –“  
“Here,” Loki waved a cab down. “You can share it with me.”  
“You know, I don't mind taking the bus,” Tom hesitated.  
“I will even pay for the fare,” Loki said. “Don't be a fool.”  
“OK, OK,” sighed Tom and he shuffled in after Loki.

After five minutes of awkward silence, Tom frowned. Wait a second...

“Loki,” he scratched his head uncertainly. “How did you know I was at Electra?”  
“I just came from seeing it,” Loki replied smoothly.  
“Oh.”

Pause.

“A school assignment?” asked Tom curiously. “Are you taking any classics?”  
“I am,” admitted Loki. “A Greek and Roman history overview – but I did not come for reasons of an assignment. I was interested. And it was cheap to attend.”  
“Right, yes, very amateur, I'm sure.”  
“Perhaps,” Loki shrugged, “but your skills are not to be ignored.” Here, he smiled at Tom, his face cast into shadow and then illuminated by a street light and then cast into shadow again – a never ending repeating pattern of revelation and obscurity. “You are, Thomas, what Downey would call a 'diamond in the rough'. That is what he said of you the other night when he returned home. I must agree with his estimation.”  
“Oh,” Tom said, biting his lip and looking down at his boney hands. “Thank you. That's very... kind of you to say.”  
“Is it?” asked Loki airily. “If truth is kindness, then it is so.”

Tom sighed. No, Loki couldn't just let it be simple, could he? The short cab ride home never felt longer.  


 

-0-0-0-

It was just after Easter hols that Tom had the misfortune of bumping into Loki again, this time at the library. Mark had told Tom that they could meet up at the library and go out for dinner together before returning for more study time. As Tom made his way down between an empty aisle to Mark's favourite studying nook on the third floor of the huge library, he paused at the sight of a book title at the end of the shelf which had the words 'Anglo-Saxon Poetry' lettered along the side. Although he wasn't studying it, Tom had a love of and curiosity about languages, old and new, and he felt there was something particularly beautiful about the old English tongue.

About two feet away, Mark, having caught sight of his taller brother, was packing up his laptop and bags. A few tough looking fellows passed by and paused at the sight of their prematurely greying fellow classmate.

“Hey dude,” one of the guys said in a drawl more suited to a beach in Florida. Tom's ears perked up at the sound of the heavy American accent. Listening carefully to the cadence, the amateur actor whispered the words to himself in practice of his usual mimicry. The words before him blurred as he chanted the following words over and over again.  
“Where's Downey at?”  
“Oh, he's got an interview with Professor Stadden,” Mark said. “He'll be around in an hour or two if you're looking for him. My brother, Tom, and I are grabbing a bite to eat. You want to join?”  
“Naw...”  
“We've got some rugby to watch,” another smiled. “I'm surprised Downey isn't here already. You two are practically joined at the hip these days.”

Just at this point, a hand which had reached up beside Tom paused and hovered over a slim volume entitled “The Seafarer”. At Mark's soft laugh of deprecation, the familiar fingers slipped and pulled out the book and moved onto another titled “Old English Dynamics in Prose.” Tom, in his own world, paid no mind to the person next to him, deciding to focus on his own book, trying not to eavesdrop on his brother's conversation.

“I guess...” Mark was saying hesitantly.  
“C'mon,” laughed a dark-haired younger man. “Who wouldn't want to handle that hot stuff – and all the benefits that goes with!”

More laughter and Mark seemed to have retreated a little – Tom didn't need to see it to know that his very shy older brother was blushing.

“Well,” Mark was mumbling. “There are many benefits but –“  
“Stop teasing him, guys,” said the American. “They look good together, they compliment each other – end of story. So what if he's... I don't,” (more laughter) “sexy as hell and as rich as Chronos.”  
“Croesus,” a familiar voice clashed with Tom's in a simultaneous correction.

Blue eyes met green. Tom winced at the sight of Loki – who seemed to be once again glaring at the whole world. For a moment, the force of Loki's annoyed, disgruntled look made Tom glance down at the books clutched in the familiar hands. _Right._ Tom grit his teeth. _Loki. Again. Of course he's here... at the worst possible moment..._

“Loki,” he said, voice tight. “Fancy meeting you here.”  
“Yes,” Loki said in a flat voice (but it was still easy to catch the heavy sarcasm). “Fancy that. Seeing as we are both students of this bright institution and are self-motivated learners... it is indeed amazing that we should chance upon each other at least once in a school year.”  
“I didn't bump into you before,” Tom had to point out.  
“I do my best,” was the acid reply, “but this obviously constituted an emergency.”

Tom wondered if he should feel upset or annoyed or relieved or disturbed that the man had been avoiding him. He decided to be charitable and go for relief. Still, the red demon on his shoulder wasn't going away any time soon.

“Really?” Tom couldn't help but say, “And here I thought you were a masochist, Loki.”  
“Aha aha.” Loki's eyes turned to the group of men now saying a cheerful goodbye to Mark who finally came over. “I thought that was more your position – in relation to your family. And friends.” He tipped his chin at the guys disappearing in the direction of the door. “Nice ones you got there, Mark.”  
“Not really mine,” sighed Mark, shaking his head. “They mean well of course –“  
“Of course,” Loki said stiffly. “Well, you two may have time to spend with morons. I do not. I may have the misfortune of seeing you around again. Until then.” With a short nod, Loki strode off down the aisle to the door.  
“What an ass,” Tom glared at retreating dark-sweatered back. “I want to hit him.”  
“Tom...” Mark raised an eyebrow at his taller, younger brother. “I'm sure you don't mean that. Not really anyways.”  
“No, I think I do.”  


 

-0-0-0-

From then onward, everyone began to buckle down for the truly difficult part of any school year – finals. This was particularly true for those who had taken a full year course and now had to review anything learned back in the dawn of time (AKA September). Tom's life was spent bent over flashcards and vocabulary lists while Mark began to mumble formulas and equations in his sleep. Ben disappeared for days on end – and emerged at one point in need of a bath. The younger siblings became unmanageable as stress began to mount up – and Chris and Matt's yammering about their until-now ignored schoolwork raised protest even from the quieter Mark.

It was no surprise therefore that everyone kept to their home and the dating and social lives of many disappeared. Tom couldn't find time to hang out with Chris E at the Horowitz Sports Pub, Matt had to turn away his mysterious Doctor a couple times because Leonard threatened to chain him to his bed all summer if he didn't pass his Maths – and even Chris discovered that no amount of wheedling could free him to play with his football pals. The football season had ended with a happy bang – their team had gotten second place in their regional tournament (which William would not shut up about), but that only meant that there was no longer a reason to go out on a night and kick around with friends.

When the finals came to a close, everyone ended up in the living room in various states of prostration, silent and feeling more overworked than usual. For once, the neighbourhood lay silent, in suspense and preparing itself for the inevitable party time backlash that was usual for most university communities during this time of year.

It never came. Six days later, on the Friday following Mark's last exam, the eldest Nimoy-Shatner got an email from Downey. For a few seconds, he stared at his smartphone in bewilderment.

“What is it, Mark?” asked Tom, looking up from the film he had been watching ( _12 Monkeys_ ).  
“Johnny sent me a mail,” Mark finally said, brown eyes wide and puzzled.  
“Oh?” Tom frowned as he noticed Mark's expression. “What does it say?”

When Mark did not reply right away, Tom paused the movie and turned to Mark, saying, “You don't have to share it if you don't want to, Mark.”  
“No, no,” Mark found his voice then. “I'm just... I don't know what to think, really. It says... that they're gone...”  
“Eh?”

Tom's blue eyes widened and he glanced at Mark's face, searching for any sign of anxiety. As usual, Mark's expression was calm. _Which doesn't mean that he's not feeling anything_ , Tom bit his lip.

“It says... 'Hey Mark. I know this is going to be a real shocker for all of you – but we're all busting out now and going into London to hang for a bit. I do know that Martin is staying in London for the summer, something to do with having family or I don't know. I'm sure he'll be emailing Ben in his usual way. But as for the rest of us... I think Rob and the others want to hang out in Cuba and pop into the family company headquarters in New York for a few days before coming back in September... I don't know. Our plans are really up in the air for next year as well – whether we'll return to the neighbourhood or move to a nicer place or actually live in the dorms... no idea really. Frankly, the only thing I'll miss from the place is you and your wonderful company –“

Tom snorted quietly to himself as a small part of himself began to consider the situation with suspicion. This reeked of Loki. _Totally..._

“'– and hopefully we'll bump into each other again and hang out sometime soon, or if not sooner, then later in the year come September. On the plus side, there's still Whatsapp and Skype and stuff –'“ Mark went on, “'so I'm sure we'll keep in touch. Don't be a stranger!'”  
“Well, I'm sure they'll be back sooner than they planned,” Tom said, trying to keep his voice light and not freak out Mark unnecessarily.  
“Uh, it sounds like they'll be staying out of Cambridge for the whole summer...” Mark said, scrolling down. “It says here 'At any rate, Rob had thought the company business could be wrapped up in a few days – but we'll have to see. I'm sure they've made a muck of it over there without him breathing down their necks, so I have a feeling that it'll be more like a few weeks, really. This really sucks because I was looking forward to Rob and I showing you how to spend a real July 4th holiday...' So, that's that, I guess.”  
“Well, I don't know – just because Johnny said that he might not doesn't mean he won't,” Tom said, glad that William wasn't around to hear this first hand.  
“Well, I guess,” Mark didn't sound convinced. “But there's a part in the email that kinda...” He wrinkled his brow. “I feel a bit sick.”  
“What does it say?” Tom leaned forward, giving his brother a partial sideways hug on the couch.  
“It says... 'Loki is really anxious to meet up with his brother, Hal, in London, which I am so pumped about. He's pretty much the awesome – hot, smart and really amazing all around. He's so charismatic, you know? Steamy. Of course, he's the perfect guy for Rob and I really hope that something might happen between them, since Loki is almost like our family anyways – and we know them so well. Rob has a charm of his own – and I'm sure Hal won't be able to resist. LOLZ. Sparks will fly – I'm sure of it!'... Tell me that Johnny is just worried that I'm going to be heart-broken since Rob's been stringing me along, so he's trying to let me down easy.”  
“Uh, not going to do that,” Tom shook his head. “Sorry, Mark, but I think I have a very different opinion of what's going on here. Want me to lay it on you?”  
“I have a feeling I might regret this, but sure, OK.”  
“I think that Johnny doesn't want you to get with Downey. He doesn't want you to succeed – and you have been.”  
“What?” Mark shook his head.  
“No. Listen to me, Mark. Anyone with two eyes and a reasonable amount of brain matter can see that Downey worships the ground you walk on. And if Loki liked Johnny half as much as Downey likes – liked – likes you, then Johnny would be ordering the wedding catering. Trust me. But... there's our family – and the fact that, to put it mildly, we aren't running in the same social class. Johnny can be a snob sometimes – and I bet that Orlando and he don't like the idea of you getting it on with Downey. Loki probably doesn't like it either. Which is why Johnny knows he'll never be successful with Loki, no matter how hard he tries – because there's always Miss Sigyn waiting in the wings with Mr. Odinsson breathing down their necks. Still that doesn't mean that Johnny is sympathetic to your cause.”  
“If I thought Johnny was an awful person, like you do,” Mark said, “then I guess I could believe that – but Johnny isn't like that. He must have been lied to, or something.”  
“Uh... I don't think Johnny is an awful person –“ winced Tom. “Just... complicated. Forget Johnny. If he's lied to, fine. Whatever. But don't worry about him and what he thinks.”  
“You really think it's OK for me to keep dating a guy – even though his family and friends hate me?”  
“You aren't marrying them! But it's up to you whether what they think is important or not.”  
“Well, of course I'm not marrying them – and if Rob asked me to marry him or be with him, I would – forget them...”  
“Really... you'd be able to just say 'fuck you'?” Tom raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn't. You know you wouldn't.”  
“Well, it doesn't matter now,” sighed Mark. “He's not coming back... so who's to say what will happen when he finally does come back around.”  
“Hmph,” Tom sniffed, feeling more pissed off at Downey's pack of friends.

 _Some friends_ , he thought morosely, noticing that Mark already looked a little less happy than he had been half an hour before. _Destroying love like that... Which reminds me._

“And really – Downey didn't email you himself?” Tom asked. “That's strange.”  
“I know,” Mark bit his lip. “I guess he thought it wasn't important?”  
“I've a mind to write him myself and –“  
“No, no, no!” Mark said, grabbing Tom's arm. “Don't do that – that's...” He paused. “That's OK. I'll write him myself.”  
“OK,” Tom eased back, giving his brother a sharp look. “Don't let him off the hook so easily, Mark. He should've told you.”  
“We aren't – We weren't –“ Mark paused. “Never mind.”

With that the conversation ended and for a few seconds they sat there in the dim light, the movie still frozen on Bruce Willis stuck in the chair. The door banged open – and suddenly the room was filled with noise. The Downey house, according to Firth, William said, had been suspiciously quiet for the last two days. What did the boys think of that?

“They're gone for the summer,” Tom finally said quietly. “Mark got an email.”  
“They are inviting you to go to Greece or some exotic beach with them?” William loomed over the two suddenly, very excited.  
“I don't think that's it, William dear,” Leonard said mildly, eyes watchful as he pulled off his coat. “Do you pay attention at all – or are you wilfully ignorant like this all the time?”  
“Well, Mark, come on – what does it say?” Chris rolled his eyes and poked his brother in the shoulder.  
“Nothing much – just that they'll be in London for a bit. Martin is staying there the whole summer – but the rest are going to Cuba or some such place and probably America for a few weeks,” Mark replied dutifully as his parents sat down in their respective favourite armchairs.  
“What?!” William was sitting up now and even Leonard frowned.  
“That's sudden,” Leonard said. “When will they be back?”  
“I guess in time for school,” Tom said. “From the sounds of it.”  
“Well, that's OK then,” Chris said complacently, lingering at the door.  
“If they move back,” Tom had to add. “There's a chance they'll move out entirely.”  
“What the hell?” William leaned back and groaned theatrically. “Mark! Mark! This is the worst! Our plans are going to go to waste! You know what they say – when the cat is out, the mice come out to play! Who knows what Downey will be up to all summer long without you there to remind him of your awesomeness! This is terrible! Leonard – why can't we go to London – or Cuba?”  
“Don't even start,” Leonard heaved a sigh and pulled out his paper. “I'm sorry to hear that, Mark.”  
“We'll have to see,” Mark's smile was a little forced. “It's not the end of the world yet – and besides, we were hardly –“  
“My pooooor baaabbbyyy!” William wailed.  
“I think we'll finish this another time,” Tom suggested, shutting off the film.  
“Yeah,” Mark agreed. “Suddenly, I feel a need for a drink.”  
“Right behind you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shocker, right?  
> o.O
> 
> What's going to happen next?
> 
> Adam and his decisions...


	22. Adam on the Rebound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Here we go. Anotherrrr chapter. This time about what Adam gets up to. The idiot man. LOLZ.

Chapter 22  
Adam on the Rebound

A few days later, the whole family were over again at the Levi's enjoying another dinner of chicken and rice and a variety of vegetables and everything else that is kosher. It was a nice relaxed sort of dinner, albeit surprisingly formal. It made Tom wonder if the Levis were up to something. _Perhaps a kind of cheer-up party for Mark..._

A week before, Tom had made sure to thank Zach for taking care of Adam, who had made himself scarce at the Nimoy-Shatners and now spent his free time at the Levi's. Or the Horowitz Sports Bar. During finals, Tom had welcomed Adam's absence, but worried that Zach was being bothered by his not-cousin and once-upon-a-time-suitor.

Zach was not. 

 

-0-0-0-

Zach was on the move. As soon as Tom had showed himself to be uninterested in Adam's obvious advances, the smart, tall, easy-going young man had started to insert himself into Adam's sphere more and more often. At the infamous dance party, Zach had enjoyed himself immensely with Adam, finding the stable, pragmatic man to be a perfect opposite to his more light-headed airiness. The fact that Adam wasn't a great dancer or super witty or classy like Chris E or Loki didn't bother Zach. 

Zach was, in his own way, a pragmatist. He knew that a burning intelligence and insatiable curiosity would always drive Tom to find the ultimate mate who could explore and find joy in the world about them. Zach just needed a stable companion who liked a healthy romp, worked well and could provide their own income. 

So when Adam began to show definite interest, Zach showed his most agreeable side possible and flirted gaily with the man and found himself enjoying Adam more and more as time went on. His parents approved – particularly his mother – and sometimes his father (depending on his level of alcoholic consumption). There was the fact that Adam was bringing to the table a nice sized inheritance from both the Nimoy and Baldwin estates – and this gave Mrs. Levi a great feeling of superiority whenever she thought about William's speeches about the bright futures of his sons.

When Adam proposed to Zach (this time more carefully and with greater discernment), Zach's smile widened and his brown eyes sparkled. He said 'yes' – and there was a small celebration in the Levi household. 

“But you mustn't say anything to Tom or his family,” Zach said.  
“Uhh... why?” Adam blinked.  
“Because, it'll be really awkward, you know? Besides, we'll want to announce it properly. At a dinner or something, right, Dad?”  
“Sure, son,” sighed Mr. Levi. “Your mom will have more say about that, I think.”

Mr. Levi was right. Mrs. Levi wanted to announce it properly – and rub William's nose in it. And she needed to do it soon since Adam's seminar had drawn to a close and he was due to return to London within a week and a half. 

 

-0-0-0-

When Adam returned home the night of his engagement, the Nimoy-Shatner family were up and hanging about the rec room, watching some sports match or other. 

“So,” Leonard said. “You'll be going soon, right?”  
“Yes,” he replied, “in a week and a half.”  
“How time flies,” William said with a great air of sadness. “It feels like yesterday that you arrived. I hope you can pop around sometime.”  
“Of course,” Adam said. “I'll be visiting every now and then.”  
“Really? Your job won't tie you down too much?” asked Leonard curiously, knowing that Tom and he would rather their not-cousin stay far away.  
“No, no,” Adam replied airily. “I won't come around if Viking Security demands my constant presence – but in the event they do not need me, I will definitely be sure to call you guys again.”  
“Right, right,” Leonard nodded, stifling the urge to laugh, wondering if Tom could find humour enough to share this moment with him. Judging by Tom's dancing eyes, yes. “Well, don't push it – this is a new job for you and you don't want to get the big boss mad just 'cause you have family. We'll understand it if the job is so demanding.”  
“Wow, Uncle Leonard,” Adam smiled then. “You're so understanding... and I can't thank you enough for your kindness and everyone's kindness for having me here. I really do hope you guys have a great time for the rest of this year, not least of all, Tom, as well.”

Tom nodded, massaging his neck and feeling a little more awkward than usual. William meanwhile was off in la-la land, imagining Adam hooking up with Ben. _Ben would be perfect – a little crazy at times, but he loved to read. And he was smart in his own way – and enjoyed dull documentaries as well._ Yes, a chat with Adam about Ben was in order.

Of course, this whole dream world of William's (unbeknownst to the airhead) was blown away the next morning when Zach showed up and took Tom aside for a chat.

“So, Tom, don't be upset with me, but, um, I may have done something a little awkward,” Zach began.  
Tom blinked at his close friend in confusion and said quietly, “What is it, Zach? You didn't go to some creepy club and get laid by some old tranny did you? Or take drugs – you didn't take drugs – I know that Johnny and Helena were saying something about absinthe going about the journalist club but –”  
“No, no, nothing like that,” laughed Zach. “It's your, uh, cousin. Not-cousin. Adam.”  
“Adam?”  
“Yes, you see, I kind of caught his notice... and...”

Tom waited, nodding and putting on a bland but accepting face. 

“AndheaskedmetogooutwithhimandmaybegetmarriedandIsaidyes,” Zach blurted out.

Tom blinked, eyes widening as the word-splurge sunk in.

“Zach!” he said, lowering his voice as he looked about the empty living room, as if expecting Matt or Chris (or even worse, William) to crawl out from under the couch. “Zach – you're engaged or dating or whatever – Adam? Adam? My cousin, not-cousin?”

Zach nodded, face super serious and Tom forced himself to breathe a bit more calmly. _Think Zen thoughts............. OK....... Achieved..._

“Sorry, mild freak out –“ Tom apologized.  
“Mild? Yeah...”  
“Sorry, sorry, I just... I didn't think you'd say yes to a guy like that?”  
“Why not?” Zach laughed then. “He's a great guy – good family, really cute, very stable – and has a good job and a lot of money coming to him. What's there not to like?”  
“Uhhh... I won't say anything more, 'cause you're taller than me and could beat me at arm-wrestling at a pinch,” Tom said slowly. “I guess he's... OK...”  
“I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that no one would want him since you didn't like him – but just think about it objectively for a moment here. Look at me – I just want to settle down with someone nice, you know? Adam makes me happy. That's what's important, isn't it?”  
“Yeah, I guess...” Tom said, not entirely convinced. 

Still, Zach did look rather content – and when Adam came into the room and caught sight of Zach, their shared look of happiness helped Tom calm down a bit. _Zach isn't just rebound material_ , he thought. _I hope. Zach makes Adam happy. And vice versa. Who would have thought it? And Zach was so different from me in his expectations, this shouldn't be surprising... but Adam sure moves fast. I guess it was all that time hanging out together – and really, I rather did see a possibility back at the dance party..._ Tom shook his head. _Still... it seems... sad..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up... more on Adam, I think. And Zach. Yep. 
> 
> Bizarre note to end on, huh. Blame Jane Austen.


	23. Zach's Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now what's Zach going to do? Kyehehehe...

So back to the formal dinner party. The one which happened a few days later, with the Nimoy-Shatners and Adam enjoying another dinner of chicken and rice and a variety of vegetables and everything else that is kosher – thanks to the ever hospitable Levis. Even Josh Levi was back from his boarding school, fresh with stories of pranks he had pulled with his other crazy buddies, as he termed them. So that made it fun for Chris and the rest.

Halfway through, Mr. Levi rose and announced in a hearty voice, “Well, folks. As you can imagine based on Irma's spread that we've got something really special to share. It's that time of life when we begin to look, like Abraham with longing –“ As soon as Mr. Levi mentioned the famous Biblical man, everyone's attention was lost – except Adam who tried to understand, Ben who prided himself on understanding and Leonard who was sincerely curious about what Mr. Levi was getting at. Everyone else heard “blah blah want kids blah blah generations to come blah blah Zach blah blah Adam” - _wait. What?_

William's blue eyes grew sharper as the wheels began to turn in his head. He wasn't entirely blonde from the roots down. Not entirely. 

“Sorry,” coughed William. “You said, uh, something about Zach being... with Adam?”  
“Yeah,” Chris snickered. “I thought he was trying to get in Tom's pants.”

Tom kicked Chris beneath the table, hoping it was Chris's leg (and judging by Chris's scared/wounded look, he had guessed correctly). Mr. Levi wasn't too put out – he was used to a state of long-suffering thanks to his long association with the Nimoy-Shatners and his own wife. He just smiled mildly at them all and felt rather proud of his son's achievement.

“No, no,” Tom said finally, a tight smile wreathing his face. “It's true – and I'm very, very happy for Zach. I say we give him a toast.” He lifted a glass, glancing at Mr. Levi who nodded and raised his own glass.  
“Yes! That is what this occasion needs, Tom! Good thought! A toast! Yes, let's have a toast to their long happiness together,” he added jovially, winking at a blushing Zach who sat between Tom and Adam uncomfortably. “Ding-dong! Ding-dong!”

William, trying to climb out of his swamp of bewilderment, opened his mouth to say something – and got a look from Leonard, so he obediently kept his mouth shut and mumbled good wishes for Zach before gulping the rest of his wine down. 

Later on that evening, Tom watching his family disappear down the street, turned and said goodbye to Zach one last time at the end of the Levi walkway. He said nothing about the fact that Adam looked like he was going to 'sleep over' again, but smiled instead and slapped Zach on the back and congratulated him. 

“Your dad seems fairly certain about you guys getting married,” Tom said. “That seems... fast.”  
“Well, you know dad,” Zach scratched his dark brown hair, ruffling it up. “He's nervous about the whole thing and I think more control and pomp and ceremony and stuff is making him feel a bit better. I'm sure he's wondering if he'll be able to ever show up at the synagogue again. Poor guy.”  
“Don't feel too bad about it, Zach,” Tom urged. “It's your life. Not his. He can deal. And so can his friends. Or not.”  
“Yeah, I know.”  
“So what are your plans then?”  
“Uh... well, Adam and I are going to do a dry run, so to speak – I'll move down to London temporarily to see how it works out,” Zach shrugged. “We'll go from there.”  
“Wow, well... I'll miss you,” Tom said quietly. “But let's keep in touch, OK?”  
“Of course,” Zach smiled and they gave each other a quick hug and Tom walked away, knowing that things would never be the same between them.

He did not look back. 

-0-0-0-

Once William got home, a tsunami of words exploded from him – making even Hamlet and King Lear look monosyllabic and even less prosy. 

It began with: “I can't believe this is happening! Can you? Maybe this is a dream... Yes. Leonard, hit me or pinch – OW! OK, it's not a dream. This is actually happening. What the hell!? How can something like this happen?”

Then moved from denial to a very targeted kind of anger: “It's Adam. What a bastard – or maybe he's an idiot. It's those Levi's. They're the ones. They've been scheming about this for YEARS. You know they're so much poorer than we are – and their kids aren't half as nice as ours. You hear Joshua talking about his schooling this year? A travesty! Well, I hope they'll never be happy together! It probably won't last.”

Afterwards, the wounded faux-mother exhortation aimed at Tom: “Of course, this wouldn't be happening if Tom had more sense! Really, Leonard, how you like him above everyone else around here is beyond me. The boy is going to end up on the streets! Jobless! Or worse, prostituting himself in some kind of faux playhouse! My poor boooyyy! Toommm! You're worth more than that!!!” (then a rapid mood swing) “Not that he doesn't deserve it –“ (return to anger, here) “turning down Adam like that! Really! Out of all the damned nonsensical things to do, Thomas! You and your sense of mischievousness and lack of seriousness and taking things for granted in life. We aren't all going to be slim and tall all our lives, you know! Your hairline is receding – what if you go bald? You've gotta take what you can get –“

This went on for a couple of days. William vowed to stop talking to Tom (gave that up after an hour), to stop talking to Leonard (gave that up after ten minutes) and to stop talking to the Levis (gave that up after a day). Leonard weathered the storm with his boys rather admirably – they'd all survived this kind of tempest before, and would once again. The only thing he said on the matter was something to the effect that Zach must be dumber than he thought to pick up a guy like Adam.

Tom wasn't too pleased about his parents' reactions – and hung out with Mark all day long, somewhere in Cambridge or on the roads between their town and London. Mark said nothing after his initial, “Wow, who woulda thunk it?”, which Tom appreciated. Lately, Mark was the only one he could really rely on. The rest of the brothers didn't give a damn. Tom found that he was thankful for that as well.

Then, there was the whole matter of helping Adam pack up his new life in Cambridge and move him down to London. The Levis helped, of course, but William could only stand Mrs. Levi's triumphant looks for so long before he flipped and disappeared into the house to sulk and wouldn't return to help carry the boxes out to the small car that Mr. Levi had commandeered. Before long, Adam was on the road and a week later, Zach. 

If it wasn't for Mark's troubles with Robert, Tom would have been more upset, but Mark's continued (and increasing) unhappiness kept him distracted. This was because throughout the whole Zach-Adam debacle, Tom watched his brother try to get in touch with Johnny, Orlando, Martin and, most of all, Robert once again. It seemed like Robert's phone was disconnected (“but he did say he was going to get a new one... but I thought he'd stay with his original package...”), his emails were bounced back (“you don't think it was hacked, do you?”) and even Facebook was deader than the Sahara (“I guess wherever they are, internet is on the fritz”). 

_I know I said to him that Robert loves him for real_ , Tom frowned at Mark's empty inbox over his brother's shoulder. _And I still think that's true – but Johnny probably has got a bunch of cohorts out there keeping Robert busy and away – and maybe, just maybe, Loki and Johnny will succeed. Maybe Mark will be forgotten._ Tom bit his lip and considered sending Loki a heated email. _Or maybe I want to live past my prime_ , he sighed to himself, _with all my body parts intact._

Mark's stoic silence and lack of response to William's escalated wailings made it worse for Tom, knowing that his quiet brother was suffering deeply if quietly. As June trickled on – with day trips to the seaside and up north to Scotland – Tom began to have an insurmountable urge to hunt Robert himself and drag him back. _But then there's Loki... Right..._

William, realizing that maybe his dreams were crumbling to dust before his eyes, whined more often than not to Leonard on an evening.

“I can't believe this,” he fretted, knocking back another beer. “This is a fucking disaster, Leonard. Disaster. Zach... off with Adam in London. Working his way through our money, no doubt.”  
“Come now,” Leonard replied mildly from behind his newspaper. “They might end up in a car accident and I'll end up getting everything. Stranger things have happened.”  
“Ha. As if,” William grunted. “Pigs might fly too.”  
“Stranger things have happened,” repeated Leonard mildly.

Pause.

“And they're going to get all of your parents' things!” added William with a renewed sense of injury. “If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't care.”  
“What wouldn't you care about?” Leonard frowned. “Sorry, didn't catch that.”  
“I wouldn't care about anything at all! Dammit!”  
“Glad to hear that you're level-headed.”  
“Level-headed be damned!” grumped William. “This isn't fair for our boys – to not get a penny of Old Joe's wealth – or even the knick-knacks their father grew up with! Why should Adam have it, I ask you?”  
“You figure it out,” sighed Leonard, going back to his paper. 

William was at it again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda sad... I think.
> 
> Well, finished Christmas Magic! YAY!   
> And sadness...
> 
> Now I'll start a new Loki fic. Prolly based on Loki & the Loon. :P
> 
> Also going to go back and tweak a few things on this fic... not huge stuff, but.... yeah...


	24. Bad News Reveals Hidden Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mark angst... (tear) 
> 
> Also... still working on editing this thing. We'll see how that goes... (is distracted by new Loki fic she's writing)

Chapter 24  
Bad News Reveals Hidden Pain

If there was any uncertainty in the air concerning the absence of “the boys”, it was dispelled a few days later. Johnny sent Mark a “quick email” and there were no two ways about it: “the boys” would not be returning until the fall semester. Two and a half months away. Not a long time objectively, Tom thought, but an age for someone in love. Especially with no hope of communication.

It was a short note, apparently typed out at the side of the hotel's pool during a particularly slow afternoon in Cuba (but apparently not slow enough to send a longer email...). Most of the letter was about Loki, Cuba, the awesomeness of Hal during hols, Loki, Cuban weather, New York plans, Hal and Robert “getting it on”, surfing, Loki, the sun shining out of Hal's butt and Loki's house in London which had been, apparently, rad.

As Mark read it aloud to the end, Tom's annoyance and frustration grew sharply (even more disturbing since he was an easy-going kind of a guy most of the time). Fighting an overwhelming urge to shoot off a vicious letter to Johnny himself, Tom sat quietly, bit his tongue and listened to Mark's silence. There were different kinds. This one sounded of resignation and it bothered Tom no end.

 _I know Robert loved Mark. Probably still does – but the carefree idiot is too busy with his friends and family. He's forgetting the ones he has here..._ Tom considered his crazy family and massaged his brow. _Such as they are. Still!_ He huffed to himself, _if Mark didn't care so much, it wouldn't be a huge thing – but this is Mark we're talking about! It's his first time to be truly serious – and to just throw it away like that!_

Mark held his peace for two more days – until the third day – a quiet Friday with William and Chris gone to Cornwall for a week, Ben in London hanging with Martin at the Natural History Museum, Matt of with “the Doctor” on some role play adventure and Leonard at a summer class. Tom, returning from a coffee he'd had with a friend who'd wanted to talk to him about a possible gig on stage, paused at the quiet of the home.

“Mark?” he called out softly.

No answer. In the kitchen, grabbing himself some juice, Tom looked out and paused at the sight of Mark sitting by himself, looking out over the yard from Leonard's wooden chair on the patio. Tom's heart tightened at the mute misery now plain to see on his older brother's profile. 

“Mark,” he slipped out, stepping around a half-empty case of beer. “You OK there?”  
“Yeah...” Mark sighed, sipping his fifth beer. “I'll be OK.”

Tom sat down beside him – the both of them enjoying the sounds of cheerful birds, the roar of a lawn mower several yards down, children shouting on the street behind them and Iron's eternal sprinklers. It was a fair day, a warm, sunny day with a blue sky and fluffy white clouds Perfect for everyone out and about. A mockery of someone in the blues.

“I wish Dad would shut up,” Mark's usually soft voice sounded a bit rough.

Tom didn't look, knowing Mark prized his privacy, particularly when he'd been crying. He sat there, looking forward and focussing on breathing evenly while listening to his brother's words. He wanted to say so much. _Yes, Dad's an ass. Why is he our Dad? If you left tomorrow, I'd go with you. You don't have to stay. Take a break. Take some time off from your part-time job and just chill out somewhere not here._ But he said nothing. Mark needed him to listen. So he would.

“It makes it worse,” Mark finally added, “like sandpaper on a carpet burn. Or lemon juice on a paper cut. Opening a wound over and over again – when it just needs time to heal.” 

A pause.

“And it will heal, Tom, with time. It'll be like it never happened.”

Tom had to turn and look at his brother in disbelief at that. Mark glanced sideways at his brother's sudden movement – and stiffened and then offered Tom a twisted, deprecating grin. 

“You think I'm joking – but I'm not. Rob will always be a great guy to me – but only as a friend. There was never a certainty – and nothing to be ashamed of really – so... with time, it'll get better –“  
“Mark, this isn't an illness that you can just –“  
“At least the only one hurt is me.”  
“Mark,” Tom sighed, rubbing his face hard, suddenly feeling tired and mean and unworthy all in one. “Mark, Mark...” He swallowed a frail laugh and said instead, “You're a saint. No one can love you like you deserve. I mean it.”  
“What? Tom, stop blathering. I'm not like that!”  
“Yes,” Tom insisted with a wide grin then. “Yes, you are. You're up there with unicorns and rainbows and kittens and cotton candy. Maybe angels and shit like that too.” Tom held up a hand at Mark's raised eyebrows and confused expression. “You know, I want to believe people can be a force for good – and I want to believe I can help others in a meaningful way – and you of all people know that I want my voice and the things I need to say to be heard... and I hope those things that I have to say will be the right things this world needs... but... I'm also aware – with each crazy cyclist on the road, with every terrorist bombing out there, with every dark role that I take on, that people struggle with doing the right thing every day – but you, you, it's as natural as breathing air. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were totally... mental! And trust me, between this whole thing and Loki the nutter and Zach... I've recently been finding it hard to have faith –“  
“Oh, Tom,” Mark handed over a beer and patted his brother fondly on a slender forearm. “You really shouldn't think too much on life like this. I don't want you to lose that smile of yours. And, you know, you should remember that people have different priorities – live and let live, you know?”  
“Uh-huh...”  
“I mean it! Look. Zach is happy with someone like Adam. Yeah, it might seem like a crime to you – but people of all types can be happy together, sometimes when it just doesn't seem... reasonable.”  
“Uh, Mark. Adam is a pompous ass – and Zach, as much as I love him, has shown himself to be plebian at best, money-grubbing at worst. I'll admit to disappointment... People shouldn't change their convictions or sense of self just because it's convenient.”  
“Tom. I don't know if Zach had the same convictions that you thought he did – and I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing... but it's a fact – people have different beliefs and their true colours show when push comes to shove. Maybe... Maybe you're allotting too much of your own convictions, or even the strength of convictions in general, into others around you,” Mark said, dryly. “We're not all as energetic or strong as you. And don't lose faith in the world because of a few mistakes –“  
“A few mistakes!”  
“I know that you're angry about Ro – Dow – you know – but you know how it is. Sometimes, when you fall head over heels in love, things are blown out of proportion. Mere admiration is mistaken for love, yada yada. Happens all the time.”  
“Well, he should've been more careful around you, Mark.”  
“Perhaps. It's not like he was planning to hurt my feelings – people don't usually plan for these kinds of things to happen.”  
“You hope,” Tom said darkly, finishing his beer and fishing out another. “Although in his case, probably not. But he's been thoughtless.”  
“Really, in what way?”  
“For one thing, always listening to his friends and also not showing personal resolution.”  
“Which one do you think is his problem?”  
“Both are,” Tom looked away. “But I won't run down your friends.”  
“You think his brother and his friends aren't good for him,” Mark quirked an eyebrow at Tom. “Or is it just Loki?”  
“Argh. Don't get me started.”  
“I'm sure they want the best for him,” Mark said. “They want him to be happy and think if he's with me, he won't be.”  
“That is a fat lie,” Tom tried to keep his voice even. “If they wanted him to be happy, they'd keep him with you. It's obvious he was happy with you. No, they want him to increase in other things – money and status. Not happiness.”  
“Well, that's not entirely certain,” Mark disagreed mildly. “After all, Hal is probably really cool as they say, and they have a longer history together. He may be better for Ro – Robert in the end. So let's not think the worst of them, OK? It'll make me more depressed – and I'm not too unhappy, really. It'll be over before you know it. Let's not talk about it.” 

Tom sighed and nodded – and they never brought it up again between them if they could help it.  


-0-0-0-

Of course, it took forever and a day for William to shut up about it. He wouldn't believe what anyone said – even Tom, Mark and Leonard couldn't talk him out of his affront and confusion.

“He was just fooling around, Dad,” Tom sighed with exasperation, doubly so since he didn't actually believe the shite coming out of his own mouth.  
“Like hell he was!” William snapped back. “He was so in love! Mark should just go out to Cuba or New York or wherever and hunt him down and shag him senseless and remind him of what he's missing. Men always need to be reminded of these things –“

Leonard snorted at this.

“They say a real estate agent was poking about on the lawn the other day,” Chris had to chime in at this point, bent on adding fuel to the fire. 

Tom kicked him crossly – but it was too late.

“Oh my gosh! What the hell is going on!” William banged his fist down on the couch armrest. “That must be a mistake. Who saw it? Irons? The man is practically blind these days. Robert's gonna come back, Mark! I'm sure of it!”  
“Yes, yes,” sighed Mark.  
“And if he's not – you have to find him and –“  
“Mark isn't jetsetting around the world after Robert,” Leonard said sharply. 

With that he got up and disappeared – a sure sign for Tom and Mark to make their escape while they could. There was no arguing with William tonight. Later on after dinner, Leonard and Tom bumped into each other outside Leonard's study. 

“Well, Tom,” Leonard shook his head. “It looks like Mark is going through the phase that all people enjoy. If they can't be in love, they like being in the throes of a heart break. Although I don't think Mark really is a Byron type. Not that you are either, but your time will come,” he chuckled. “There's tons coming back for the hols – and the coaches too. Chris E – now there's a guy who could dump you admirably and look good doing it!”  
“Uh...” Tom winced, glad that Mark wasn't there to overhear his Father's rather insensitive remarks. “I don't think Mark could've picked a better guy. Few can measure up to Robert... so, I guess, I'd have to make do with a lesser.”  
“Hm. Yes, but whether he is a Downey-type or no, you'll still have your Dad to comfort you,” Leonard's dark eyes twinkled, “and enjoy it with you.”

Of course, the best part of the whole affair was the fact that Chris E put off his return home and had decided to stay in England indefinitely. This was amazing since everyone loved hanging with him, not least of which was Tom. The truth of his past and the role in which Loki had played in it was now known to everyone – and that had created a huge Team Chris, willing to lay down their social lives for his cause in a combined mass of hatred for the ever snobby, mean-tempered Loki. The only person who stood up for Loki was Mark – but that was to be expected. Everyone else had jumped on the Anti-Loki Bandwagon with vim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a ton of Loki hate... waaaaiiii?  
> LOLZ.
> 
> Good times!  
> Let me know what you think... as usual.


	25. The Welcome Visit of Kind Relatives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... here it is... Renner and Johansson at last~

Chapter 25  
The Welcome Visit of Kind Relatives

Toward the middle of July, Cousin Scarlett and Jeremy came around for a visit. A happily married young couple working out of London, the two popular actors were a source of joy for Mark and Tom who looked up to their cousin's because of their shining example in social grace and successful lives. William and Leonard doted on Scarlett and Jeremy as well – and even Chris, Matt and Ben made sure to show up on the day of arrival to welcome their relatives. 

Jeremy Renner was a quiet, well-educated guy who was incredibly chill and knew how to have a good time without being an ass. Easy-going and polite, Jeremy was famous for doing his job well, professionally speaking and socially speaking, knowing when to laugh and better yet, when to hold his peace. His live-in partner Scarlett Johansson was, to put it bluntly, a hottie. Most dudes around the world dreamed of shaking her hand (amongst other things) – and no matter what the situation, Scarlett showed herself to be a young woman of impeccable taste and an ability to laugh. Of course, like Jeremy, she knew how to enjoy herself and was famous for her ability to knock back beer – but she knew where the line was drawn (unlike William and Leonard), which had allowed her to grow as an actress. 

The first thing the pack of cousins did was sit down and talk fashion and what was what in the world of celebrities (or in Scarlett and Jeremy's case, the edge of the celebrity world). After dissecting what Brangelina were up to and what Tom Cruise thought he was doing, the group were able to move onto what William really wanted to talk about – the whole Robert Downey Jr. debacle and the horrific Adam incident. 

“You know, I don't blame Mark – he did the best he could. But Tom. Oh, Scarlett – he could've been digging into the Nimoy-Baldwin gold mine right now if he'd kept his head and stopped listening to his infamous heart. I mean – c'mon – Adam's a fine guy. But no – Tom's gotta have standards and shit like that – and who get's Adam and the money? ZACHARY LEVI! I tell you – those money-grubbers. And what do I get from Mrs. Levi every day but updates on how Zach is loving it and how they're really getting close and how they're all going to be rolling in it... and we won't be! I tell you, this school year has been such a disappointment...”

Scarlett and Jeremy, with patience more attributed to the saints, sat and listened – but afterwards, Scarlett went out for a coffee with Tom to get the real low-down.

“It sounds like Mark's thing was for real – until the guy disappeared,” Scarlett said blowing delicately on her caramel latte. “I'm sorry that it didn't work out. So sad – but I hate to say it... I see it happen every day. A young guy with money like Robert fancies himself in love, but when push comes to shove and they're separated, it's like out of sight, out of mind, you know?”  
“Hm, I guess,” Tom eyed his own drink (a mocha) and frowned, “that might be true of other people. In this case, I think his friends and his brother interfered. They were head over heels in love – if it wasn't for Johnny and Loki's involvement, I think they'd be in a very different place right now.”  
“'Head over heels', huh,” Scarlett raised an eyebrow and took an experimental sip. “Like – how in love were they really?”  
“How could they not have been? He was practically over at the house every day. Couldn't stop staring at each other with moony eyes. He didn't push Mark either – waited until Mark was good and ready – you know, getting 'a home run', as Dad says it. Whatever. And he wouldn't dance with anyone except Mark. And if he did dance with someone else, Robert was the perfect gentleman – no sign of cheating or that kind of thing. Whenever he talked with me, it was always 'Mark this –', 'Mark that –' and... I don't know. It was love like... like I've never seen before.”  
“Wow, poor Mark... If it was that serious, I'm really sorry for him – it'll be so hard for him to get over. Now, if it had been you, Tom, you'd be laughing it off already... Hmmm...” Scarlett set her chin on her hands and mused over the matter as she sipped from her latte and stared out the window. Then she sat up and snapped her fingers. “I know – a change of scene. He should get away from Uncle William and Cambridge and just – you know, get away from it all.”  
“That would be perfect,” sighed Tom with relief. “Just what I was thinking!”  
“I don't think Mark will bump into Robert – seeing as we live in very different parts – and Mark isn't a huge partier. As minor celebrities, we do rub shoulders with quite a bit of the upper crust, but we'll just be careful. I'm sure he'd enjoy London at this time of the year.”  
“There shouldn't be any problem,” Tom agreed. “Besides, I don't think even God moves in the same circles as Loki, from the way that man behaved. A total ass. I'd be surprised if he deigned to walk down the same street you lived on. If the Queen announced that Loki had taken up residence at Windsor Castle, I wouldn't be surprised.”  
“Good to hear. It's better that Mark makes a clean break of it. Although... it was mentioned earlier that Mr. Downey's brother writes often. Will he come round?”  
“I don't think he'd want to,” Tom said slowly. “I'm not sure. Maybe. Maybe not.”

With that, Scarlett and Jeremy invited Mark down. Mark said yes and within a week and a half, the three of them disappeared into the crowds of London. Of course, leading up to their return to London, William set up a row of parties and BBQs that would impress even the most avid hostess of the street. Summer sports camps, to which Matt and Chris belonged, had provided a plethora of young people who were more than ready to party it up. Coaches and assistants were always up for a good game and nice steak – so parties were easily made with invitations extended all around. Chris E, as usual, showed up to most of them. 

Watching Tom and Chris E chat with each other, Scarlett watched the two laugh and enjoy light flirtatious banter. More than ever, she was certain that the two were in love – and didn't even know it. After deciding to warn Tom that there was more going on than he thought, she pulled away and let them enjoy themselves. Serious conversations could be had later.

A part of her was wary about Chris E. There was something theatrical about his air, and his quickness of speech spoke of great wit – and also the ability to land on his feet. Scarlett had met many of these kinds of men before in Hollywood. _Not good enough for my_ _Tom_ , she thought.   


As an small-time actress there, she had often circulated in the eastern parts of the States, so she was happy (but unsurprised) to discover that Chris E and her shared some fond memories about New Mexico and California. 

In fact, her parents had once taken her to an Odinson party when she was younger and she had heard of the Odinson's economic powers for most of her life. Although she had never personally met the family, Scarlett was glad to talk about the family mansion she had visited as a girl. Praise of Mr. Odinson was a happy topic for the both of them – and when Chris E shared his story, Scarlett tried to recall her memory of Loki – or any talk about him. All that she could say was that she had heard from someone that Loki had been a sulky, quiet boy. Who really knew though...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter... Mark in London and Loki *contemplating* Tom (even though it isn't in the book).  
> Because I can.   
> LOLZ.


	26. A Few Super Serious Matters Are Addressed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAA! A surprise (not surprise, if you've read my notes) in this chapter.

It was almost two o’clock in the morning before everyone finally left from the last party planned for that week and Scarlett managed to hunt down Tom. Despite having knocked back a few (and then some), Scarlett was intent on having a necessary conversation with her dear cousin. At first, it began awkwardly, but within minutes, Scarlett had warmed up to the subject.

“You know, I had pegged you for the sensible type, Tom,” she said. “I know that we all go through periods where we have to, you know, have someone – but think twice before getting serious, you know? I mean, look at Mark and his situation. And, yes, Chris seems to be a great guy and everything but think about where he’s at – a totally different stage of life than you, younger and all. And his priorities might not match up with yours, Tom. When I look at the both of you, I think young puppy love right away – which is fine and fun and all, but things can get out of hand really quickly. You don’t wanna give Uncle Leonard grey hairs, do you?”  
“He already has grey hairs,” Tom quipped – then blinked at the cool expression on Scarlett’s face. “You’re serious?”  
“Uh, yeah… and if you could be too, that’d be great.”  
“OK. Well then, uh…” Tom flashed his cousin a wide smile. “How about I promise you that I can take care of myself and Chris as well. He won’t fall in love with me if I can help it.”  
“C’mon, Tom, for serious now!”  
“Sorry. Ahem,” Tom tried again, attempting to sober up. “I’m not in love with Chris. Nope. Not at all. Yes, he’s a… well, very attractive and really sweet and very witty and fun to talk with – but I don’t see the chance of anything serious coming between us. And as for Father, he loves Chris – and he doesn’t give a damn about what Loki Laufeyson or some other people might say about him. So… I guess… maybe, Cousin Scarlett,” here Tom took her hand in his hand, and looked at her with apologetic blue eyes which could melt a heart of stone, “what I’m trying to say is that there is a chance that I might fall in love – but I hope you’ll respect it, if not understand. After all, I’m young and even if I know it’s silly, it doesn’t mean it’s a serious mistake. Well, it’s not like I’m thinking about it seriously all the time when I talk with him. At best, I can promise not to make any moves myself.”  
“And also not invite him over so much. You keep reminding William about him.”  
“Well,” Tom flashed Scarlett a guilty look, “I guess I do. But seriously, he isn’t over as often as he has been recently. William just wants to throw parties when you guys come around – and normally I only see him once a week – if that. And during the school year, it’s even less. I will promise to keep my head and not run off into the sunset with him, OK?”  
“OK,” Scarlett nodded. “I’m just worried, Tom. After Mark and all…”  
“I know,” sighed Tom. “I know.”

With that, the conversation ended, no hard feelings between them, and when Jeremy and Scarlett left to return to London, bringing Mark with them, Tom felt genuine regret. Now, he was left alone – his sort-of ex-best friend hanging out in London and his brother and cousins there as well. Not for the first time did Tom wonder why he didn’t just go down there himself – but then there was the possibility of getting a few auditions and he had picked up a part-time job, so more than ever, Tom felt rather bound to his home.

Instead, Tom took comfort in the emails sent to him by Zach, which were packed with the odd details of his life in London – the expense of it, the busyness, the crowds, Adam, the tourists, the traffic, the Odinsson’s, Adam, the noise outside his bedroom window, the cosmopolitan air, the pollution, Adam and his part-time job at a computer help desk in a big box store. Their weekly letters were still friendly, if lacking in strong interest on Tom’s part. Ever since the whole thing with Adam, Tom felt a small rift grow between Zach and him. Perhaps it was due to the natural break that happens when one friend is married or in a serious relationship… At any rate, Tom found some interest in Zach’s letters, but none were as interesting as Mark's.

Mark’s emails were longer and more exciting as he enjoyed London. _Not that he hasn’t been there before_ , Tom smiled. _But he has a natural enthusiasm…_ Mark talked about all of the tourist spots he had made sure to pop by – attached were several pictures of him looking rather content and Mark’s Instagram (and Twitter and Facebook) got clogged with strange pictures of gargoyles and bulstrades and railings. 

While in town, Mark was able to visit with some of his schoolmates as well as hang out with Zach (a few times) – but of Robert and his group, there was no sign. Mark had gone at one point to hunt down the city mansion which Robert had apparently inherited from his father back in the day – but the only person in, according to Mark’s email, had been Johnny.

A rather hung over Johnny who had been monosyllabic at best and would give no clear statement as to what Robert was up to. According to Johnny, Robert was basically running about with Loki hither, thither and yon and had no real time to hang about in London proper. 

“At this point,” Mark wrote, “Orlando came down and said that he had to go out with Johnny to do some personal errands. It was clear to me that I wasn’t very welcome, so I excused myself and left a note for Rob. We’ll see…”

Tom, reading through Mark’s email a third time, shook his head. It was easy to read between the lines of this – even if it hadn’t been Mark’s intent. Obviously Johnny and his cronies were plotting against Mark and making sure he’d never bump into Robert and remind the millionaire what an awesome guy Mark was.

They would not be so lucky.

-0-0-0-

Meanwhile, in another part of London, Loki was stewing. His self-proclaimed Mission Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind was not the roaring success he had hoped. Keeping Robert busy was easily done. Telling the man that Mark wasn't going anywhere and would more than likely be waiting for him when he returned to school helped their cause even more, more so since it was more than likely true.

_Pathetic mortal_ , grunted Loki as his mind turned toward the eldest Nimoy-Shatner. _And once we return to Cambridge, all of our good work separating them will come to naught. Unless..._

“We have a problem,” Loki finally approached Johnny a few days later.  
“What?” Johnny looked up, ever ready to please, which amused Loki no end – and annoyed him. “Is Robert talking about Mark again?”  
“No – but he will no doubt pay attention to the pathetic mortal if we do not somehow severe the connection on both ends.” Loki paused and waited for his words to sink in. Johnny was nodding in agreement – but that didn't mean that he necessarily understood.  
“I see what you mean – you want to make Mark think that there's zero interest so that he won't even think about trying to smooze with us again.”  
“I am not entirely certain if your grasp of the English language is what it should be,” Loki eyed the young mortal, “but you do seem to get my drift.”  
“Well, that's easy,” Johnny shrugged. “I'll go over to whatever hole he's hiding in and be really snotty and stuff and he'll get the hint. You're taking Robert over to France?”  
“Yes, I've got some... friends... there thanks to... Odin...” Loki wrinkled his face. “I think Robert will enjoy staying with them for some time – although I may have to return earlier due to some engagements my – that is, Odin – has said I must attend.”  
“OK, sure,” Johnny nodded easily. “Then I'll go join Robert down in France. That should get the message to those weirdos pretty clearly.”  
“This sounds like a workable plan.”  
“It is. You thought it up. Most of your ideas are pretty awesome.”

Loki thought about his attack on New York, the unfortunate up close and personal meeting with the Green Beast, the painful aftermath, the long years spent in prison and then his current stay on a crazy version of Midgard in order to teach him a lesson... (in what, he wasn't clear on, but it was supposed to be a lesson of some kind). _No_ , he thought with a sigh, _not all of my plans work out._ With that, he moved off with a glare.

Later that evening, he took a long, luxurious bath and reviewed the aspects of his devious plot concerning the separation of Robert from Mark and vice versa. It would work. _It should work considering how disinterested Mark seemed in Cambridge. This is no doubt the passing fancy of a social climber - and his supposed feelings will die soon enough._ He was certain of it. Now if only his other secret mission would also move along more smoothly. Just thinking about Mission Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind brought to his inner eye the irresistible vision that was Thomas. 

_The gorgeous Thomas_ , he corrected himself as he towelled himself off and, slipping on a light tunic, readied himself for bed. _Golden, god-like Thomas who is everything I am not – gentle, confident, sharp as a knife and just as keen – and with the beauty none can hold a candle to – excepting myself._

Loki's hand drifted down to his now half-hardened erection and his mouth went dry as he imagined Thomas calling on him secretly, slipping into his bedroom and crawling slowly up from the end of his bed on his hands and knees. That mouth, Loki thought rather incoherently, _those lips, that tongue... would be so... devastatingly..._

Internal speech disappeared and Loki lost himself to a haze of heady sensation.

_Damn the mortal._  
Damn him to Helheim.  
Not really. 

-0-0-0-

A week passed during which there was no sign of Downey or anything – and Johnny became even less welcoming towards Mark, who understood rather quickly that his welcome had worn thin. Ever sensitive, he retreated for a day into deep thought before writing Tom.

“Dear Tom, Well, I guess you’ll be happy to know that you’re right. I really do think Johnny doesn’t really like me – and that’s so sad and strange, because I’m sure I did nothing wrong. At any rate, if he wants to reach out, I made it clear I was always ready to hang out – and I know that you’ll think I’m an idiot to be like that… but I just can’t help it.” (Here, Tom shook his head dolefully at his older brother’s continued great-heartedness.) “It was rather sudden – but Johnny showed up one day at Scarlett and Jeremy’s flat – I had texted him where I was at… and it was so awkward. He totally patronized everything, which was embarrassing for me because you know that Scarlett and Jeremy are such great people. Thankfully, they were out. It’s so confusing to me because I don’t remember being the one to begin this whole friendship, really – and he is snubbing me. I felt sorry about the whole thing and I guess Johnny really is worried that his brother will want to hang out with me on a permanent basis… Although, I don’t know if I’d do that kind of thing, even for you, Tom. Anyways, it’s all really stupid – because it’s obvious Robert doesn’t think of me at all that way. Johnny is almost behaving… dare I say it – paranoid? I don’t know. After all, Robert isn’t showing any interest in me – for Johnny let it slip that Rob knows that I’m in town. He knows, but he’s so caught up with Hal that he’s got no time to see him. Well, there. That proves it. Robert isn’t interested in me, if he ever was – and Johnny shouldn’t worry. It makes me wonder if someone is lying to someone somewhere. So confusing. Well, screw that. It’s all water under the bridge now and frankly just being able to spend time with Scarlett and Jeremy is good enough. Johnny said something about Robert thinking on selling the house but was really vague about it. Let’s keep that our secret. You know how Dad will get if he hears that！Oh! And I saw Zach the other day and he said that he’s going to invite you down. Do say yes! Mark.”

For the entire night, Tom tossed and turned in his twin bed, fuming about Mark’s letter. The entire thing reeked of Loki’s manipulations and Johnny’s conniving behaviour. _So that’s that_ , he glared up at his ceiling, _it’s over. Done. Nails in the coffin and all. Robert is off doing his thing and Mark is left with his heart in his hands. That guy... what a tit. I hope he hooks up with Hal and regrets every moment._

The problem of Mark and Robert weren’t the only things on Tom’s mind. He was happy to message Scarlett on Facebook, letting her know that Chris E had apparently been seen having a night out on the town with a really cute girl called Jaimie. There was not a twinge in Tom’s heart as he watched Chris escort the tall girl in, hand on her back, lips intimately close to her ear. The fact that she was from money and was a rather lovely, sexy girl with loads of confidence made sense to Tom. If questioned on his acceptance of Chris E, Tom would have been embarrassed to realize that he had a little bit of a double standard going there – as pertaining to Chris compared to Zach. Unfortunately, Mark and Scarlett weren’t on hand to make any real commentary and Tom just shrugged off Chris’s relationship with an easy, “Go get’em!” 

With that, he wrote up the message ending with: “So you see, Scarlett, I guess I wasn’t in love with him at all. There was nothing there. Just a meeting of minds. Very platonic, I guess – and probably I could quote some Greek here on shieldmates and men at arms, but I have a feeling you’d hit me. The fact that he’s going out with Jaimie doesn’t bother me either. Whatever floats his boat, you know? Now, if you want to talk about bruised egos – Chris and Matt miss Chris E much more sorely than I do. But then, they are young and don’t have a ton of thoughts for issues concerning bread and butter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Scarlett just wants to protect Tom. What do you think?
> 
> But I think the highlight of this chapter is Loki, as usual, unable to think of our memorable Hiddleston~


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter! Updates are going to slow a bit for four reasons...  
> 1\. Mid-terms are here and I have to proctor and mark them.  
> 2\. Took up an extra tutoring job for two weeks.   
> 3\. Started a new fanfiction called "Distortions in Time". Which you should check out if you like Jotun!Loki. :D  
> 4\. Need to make a few buffer chapters for this fic. 
> 
> I'll see you all in a day or two!!!
> 
> Onwards to Tom-ness!

Chapter 27  
London

A week passed by and Tom got an invitation from Zach to visit him in London. This was perfect since by this time, his part-time job had begun to lag – and he knew that two weeks of time off would be allowed (there was only so much you could shelve in archives before going absolutely nuts). With that, he took two weeks leave and traveled down to London, ready to hole up with Zach and a load of movies – and a chance to also meet up with Mark before Mark returned home.

Of course, this whole trip would leave Leonard high and dry – with only William, Chris and Matt for company… _But then_ , Tom told himself philosophically, _adverse circumstances can build character_ – and he went back to packing with an eased conscience.

Saying goodbye was easily done over beers on a Friday night. His announcement to go to London and chill with Zach (and possibly Mark) was met with a strong hurrah – and encouragements from all quarters to make a real time of it and go to all the proper clubs. Chris E wished him luck and suggested a few bars to visit and reminded Tom that if he found himself somehow yanked into an Odinsson family barbeque – to avoid Loki and his family altogether. They are best left alone, he said, and despite the fact that the old man is pretty cool – that doesn’t make him less of an autocrat, if you take my meaning. 

Tom nodded agreeably. He had no immediate plans to inflict himself with the presence of Loki. 

With that, Tom went down to London by way of train and getting off found himself greeted by a rather harried-looking Adam who had a meeting in two hours. Aware of Adam’s “the work is all” motto, Tom collected his things and without delay, they plunged into the Underground and were on their way to Zach’s flat, which, according to Adam, was also his – but they had a spare bedroom which would suit Tom perfectly, he thought. Tom nodded, finding it still awkward to meet the man’s eyes and wishing that he could get alone with Zach.

No sooner did they arrive then Adam was turning about and running out again, leaving Tom at the door of their shared flat. Tom knocked. Zach opened the door. There was an embrace. There was excited chatter – and there was Mark, looking relaxed and his usual self in the living room, beer in hand and X-Box controller in the other. Scarlett emerged from the bathroom looking coiffed as usual – and there were more embraces and hurrahs and noises of excitement. 

Within moments, they were all seated and chatting about life and who was dating whom back in Cambridge and what summer romances were starting up in earnest and which ones would not last beyond the first week of school. Of course, Chris E and his newest conquest were considered.

“Well, Tom,” said Scarlett. “What’s Jaimie like? I hope Chris E isn’t just a money grubber and actually likes her.”  
“Scarlett,” Tom said mildly, cocking his brow and picking his way through the conversation carefully. “What difference is there between being prudent financially and being a money-grubber, as you so nicely put it? You told me not to hang with him because it wouldn’t be good for me, but the moment he’s showing some sense, he’s climbing the social ladder. You can’t have it both ways.” 

Tom very carefully avoided looking at Zach while he finished speaking. 

“Well, what’s Jaimie like then?” Scarlett persisted. “Then we can make up our minds on it.”  
“She’s classy, well-brought up, smart and very sexy. Most guys would go for a girl like that.”  
“But you wouldn’t,” Zach said shrewdly.  
“Well… no…” Tom agreed. “I guess I need something more…”  
“Hmmm… the fact that he’s going after her AFTER she got a load of money from her grandfather seems a bit suspect, don’t you think?” asked Scarlett.  
“She’s got a point,” Zach said comfortably, while Mark protested, “Hey now…”  
“Just seems sudden, dear,” Scarlett sighed.  
“Darling, everything can seem suspicious if you choose to look at it that way,” replied Tom sharply. “She's a big girl. If she doesn’t care, then we shouldn’t either…”  
“Uh... who cares what she thinks – that doesn't justify what he's doing,” Scarlett frowned.  
“Just makes her look stupid, at worst,” Zach put in.  
“Fine,” Tom rolled his eyes exasperated. “Have it your way. He's a gold-digging gigolo and she's dumb as an ox.”  
“It's not my way,” Scarlett groaned. “We're looking at this objectively and we're seeing something suspicious at best, alarming at worst. Really, I hope it does turn out OK for the both of them. It'd be a bad rep for American men.”  
“American men, British men,” Tom threw up his hands. “They're all idiots as far as I'm concerned. Good thing I'm in London now. As the highest populated city – and having tons of good clubs, I'm sure I can pick up the stupidest, most unreasonable jerk out there. They're only good for one thing, after all – and that's fine with me.”  
“Cynicism, Tom, doesn't suit you,” Scarlett murmured. “Now you are the one being unreasonable.”  
“Oh, Tom!” Mark added, squeezing Tom's shoulder. “Don't sell yourself – or the world – short.”

With that, the conversation turned toward the newest film out there, and everyone forgot the drama and issues of every day life. Tom rhapsodized about his dream to one day go to Hollywood and meet the greats – Spielberg, Whedon, Jackson, Nolan... and all the famous actors too. Of course, the chance to act for or alongside of these great people was as impossible as flying to the moon, but Tom wasn't afraid to dream big.

“You know,” Scarlett said thoughtfully. “Jer and I are flying over for some business. He has a TV episode to shoot and I've got a photoshoot and interview to give for Cosmo... so... Maybe...” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You could come with us. Get away from England for a bit. Clear your head.”  
“What? Seriously?” Tom's blue eyes widened and he mentally toted up what money he'd saved that year. Maybe Father could lend me a few hundred quid...  
“Our treat, of course,” Scarlett added with a grin.

Mark, as he watched Tom's face light up, was struck with the realization that Tom had been in a bit of a funk as well. _I guess I'm not the only one_ , he thought – and then felt guilty as a thought crept in... _In fact, he's probably been worrying because of me and the whole Downey thing and he does like to fret about me._

“You should go, Tom,” he said. “Dad will say yes – he can't say anything really, because you know Father will totally let you go.”  
“You think I should?”  
“Of course,” Mark replied fondly. “Idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up... Tom and the Odinsons.  
> Asgardians appear!
> 
> Yus!

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to help me write a sex scene for various pairings in this story, let me know.
> 
> For those who want to know:
> 
> Mr. Bennet - Leonard Nimoy  
> Mrs. Bennett – William Shatner  
> Elizabeth – Tom Hiddleston  
> Jane – Mark Ruffalo  
> Mary – Benedict Cumberbatch  
> Kitty – Matt Smith  
> Lydia – Chris Hemsworth  
> Mr. Collins – Adam Baldwin  
> Charlotte – Zachary Levi  
> Wickham – Chris Evans  
> Darcy – Loki  
> Bingley – Rob D. Jr.  
> Caroline Bingley – Johnny Depp  
> Darcy's Sis – Hal  
> Fitzwilliam Darcy – Thor  
> Lady Catherine – Odin  
> Lady Catherine's daughter – Sigyn  
> Kitty's Caller (OC) – Doctor Who  
> Aunt and Uncle – Jeremy/Scarlett  
> Random girl (OC) – Jane Foster  
> Uneducated Gardener – Ned Poins  
> Mrs. Long – Jeremy Irons  
> Random dude (OC) – Orlando Bloom  
> Random serious dude (OC) – Martin Freeman  
> Random Professors (OC) - Alan Rickman, Hugh Grant/Professor Colin Firth  
> Colonel Forster - Coach Kirk  
> Mrs. Forster - Assistant Coach Spock  
> Mr. & Mrs. Philips - The Horowitzes (OCs)  
> The Lucases - Mr. & Mrs. Levi (OCs), Joshua Gomez (Chuck)
> 
> Review please! *bats eyelashes*


End file.
